www.psychceu.com is honored to present the complete
Jung Lexicon online through the graciousness and generosity of
its author, Jungian analyst, Daryl Sharp, publisher and general editor
of Inner City Books.

C. G. Jung died in 1961, without ever having presented a systematic summary
of his psychology. For the past thirty years his ideas have been explained,
explored and amplified by thousands of others, with varying results.

Jung Lexicon takes the reader to the source. It was designed for
those seeking an understanding of relevant terms and concepts as they
were used by Jung himself. There are choice extracts from Jung's Collected
Works, but no references to other writers.

Jung Lexicon is not a critique or a defence of Jung's thoughts,
but a guide to its richness and an illustration of the broad scope and
interrelationship of his interests.
Informed by a close reading of Jung's major writings, Jung Lexicon
contains a comprehensive overview of the basic principles of Jungian psychology.
The implications and practical application of Jung's ideas are well covered
by other volumes in this series.

Notes on Usage

A word that appears in bold type under a main heading directs
the reader to another entry. Activate the FIND function on your browser
to search for particular terms, themes, topics, etc. For example, with
the FIND dialogue box open, type in "dream" or "midlife" or "relationship"
and see what comes up. Or you can scroll through the Lexicon from top
to bottom and find unexpected gems.

The designation CW in the citations refers to the twenty volumes of Jung's
Collected Works. The title of the individual volumes are given
in the Bibliography.

Abaissement du niveau mental. A lowering of the
level of consciousness, a mental and emotional condition experienced as
"loss of soul." (See also depression.)

It is a slackening of the tensity of consciousness, which might
be compared to a low barometric reading, presaging bad weather. The tonus
has given way, and this is felt subjectively as listlessness, moroseness,
and depression. One no longer has any wish or courage to face the tasks
of the day. One feels like lead, because no part of one's body seems willing
to move, and this is due to the fact that one no longer has any disposable
energy. . . . The listlessness and paralysis of will can go so far that
the whole personality falls apart, so to speak, and consciousness loses
its unity . . . . Abaissement du niveau mental can be the result of physical and
mental fatigue, bodily illness, violent emotions, and shock, of which
the last has a particularly deleterious effect on one's self-assurance.
The abaissement always has a restrictive influence on the personality
as a whole. It reduces one's self-confidence and the spirit of enterprise,
and, as a result of increasing egocentricity, narrows the mental horizon
["Concerning Rebirth," CW 9i, pars. 213f.]

Abreaction. A method of becoming conscious of repressed emotional
reactions through the retelling and reliving of a traumatic experience.
(See also cathartic method.)

After some initial interest in "trauma theory," Jung abandoned abreaction
(together with suggestion) as an effective tool in the therapy of neurosis.

I soon discovered that, though traumata of clearly aetiological
significance were occasionally present, the majority of them appeared
very improbable. Many traumata were so unimportant, even so normal, that
they could be regarded at most as a pretext for the neurosis. But what
especially aroused my criticism was the fact that not a few traumata were
simply inventions of fantasy and had never happened at all. . . . I could
no longer imagine that repeated experiences of a fantastically exaggerated
or entirely fictitious trauma had a different therapeutic value from a
suggestion procedure.[ "Some Crucial Points in Psychoanalysis,"
CW 4, par. 582.]

The belief, the self-confidence, perhaps also the devotion with which
the analyst does his work, are far more important to the patient (imponderabilia
though they may be), than the rehearsing of old traumata.[Ibid.,
par. 584.]

Abstraction. A form of mental activity by which a conscious content
is freed from its association with irrelevant elements, similar to the process
of differentiation. (Compare empathy.)

Abstraction is an activity pertaining to the psychological functions
in general. There is an abstract thinking, just as there is abstract feeling,
sensation, and intuition. Abstract thinking singles out the rational,
logical qualities of a given content from its intellectually irrelevant
components. Abstract feeling does the same with a content characterized
by its feeling-values . . . . Abstract sensation would be aesthetic as
opposed to sensuous sensation, and abstract intuition would be symbolic
as opposed to fantastic intuition.["Definitions," CW 6,
par. 678.]

Jung related abstraction to introversion (analogous to empathy and extraversion).

I visualize the process of abstraction as a withdrawal of libido
from the object, as a backflow of value from the object into a subjective,
abstract content. For me, therefore, abstraction amounts to an energic
devaluation of the object. In other words, abstraction is an introverting
movement of libido.[Ibid., par. 679.]

To the extent that its purpose is to break the object's hold on the subject,
abstraction is an attempt to rise above the primitive state of participation
mystique.

Active imagination. A method of assimilating unconscious contents
(dreams, fantasies, etc.) through some form of self-expression. (See also
transcendent function.)

The object of active imagination is to give a voice to sides of the personality
(particularly the anima/animus and the shadow) that are normally not heard,
thereby establishing a line of communication between consciousness and
the unconscious. Even when the end products-drawing, painting, writing,
sculpture, dance, music, etc.-are not interpreted, something goes on between
creator and creation that contributes to a transformation of consciousness.

The first stage of active imagination is like dreaming with open eyes.
It can take place spontaneously or be artificially induced.

In the latter case you choose a dream, or some other fantasy-image,
and concentrate on it by simply catching hold of it and looking at it.
You can also use a bad mood as a starting-point, and then try to find
out what sort of fantasy-image it will produce, or what image expresses
this mood. You then fix this image in the mind by concentrating your attention.
Usually it will alter, as the mere fact of contemplating it animates it.
The alterations must be carefully noted down all the time, for they reflect
the psychic processes in the unconscious background, which appear in the
form of images consisting of conscious memory material. In this way conscious
and unconscious are united, just as a waterfall connects above and below.[The
Conjunction," CW 14, par. 706.]

The second stage, beyond simply observing the images, involves a conscious
participation in them, the honest evaluation of what they mean about oneself,
and a morally and intellectually binding commitment to act on the insights.
This is a transition from a merely perceptive or aesthetic attitude to one
of judgment.

Although, to a certain extent, he looks on from outside, impartially,
he is also an acting and suffering figure in the drama of the psyche.
This recognition is absolutely necessary and marks an important advance.
So long as he simply looks at the pictures he is like the foolish Parsifal,
who forgot to ask the vital question because he was not aware of his own
participation in the action.[An allusion to the medieval Grail legend.
The question Parsifal failed to ask was, "Whom does the Grail serve?"
]. . . But if you recognize your own involvement you yourself must
enter into the process with your personal reactions, just as if you were
one of the fantasy figures, or rather, as if the drama being enacted before
your eyes were real.["The Conjunction," CW 14, par. 753.]

The judging attitude implies a voluntary involvement in those fantasy-processes
which compensate the individual and-in particular-the collective situation
of consciousness. The avowed purpose of this involvement is to integrate
the statements of the unconscious, to assimilate their compensatory
content, and thereby produce a whole meaning which alone makes life
worth living and, for not a few people, possible at all. [
Ibid., par. 756.]

Adaptation. The process of coming to terms with the external world,
on the one hand, and with one's own unique psychological characteristics
on the other. (See also neurosis.)

Before [individuation] can be taken as a goal, the educational
aim of adaptation to the necessary minimum of collective norms must first
be attained. If a plant is to unfold its specific nature to the full,
it must first be able to grow in the soil in which it is planted.["Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 761.]

The constant flow of life again and again demands fresh adaptation.
Adaptation is never achieved once and for all.["The Transcendent
Function," CW 8, par. 143.]

Man is not a machine in the sense that he can consistently maintain
the same output of work. He can meet the demands of outer necessity
in an ideal way only if he is also adapted to his own inner world, that
is, if he is in harmony with himself. Conversely, he can only adapt
to his inner world and achieve harmony with himself when he is adapted
to the environmental conditions.["On Psychic Energy,"
ibid., par. 75.]

The transition from child to adult initially entails an increasing adaptation
to the outer world. When the libido meets an obstacle to progression, there
is an accumulation of energy that normally gives rise to increased efforts
to overcome the obstacle. But if the obstacle proves insurmountable, the
stored-up energy regresses to an earlier mode of adaptation. This in turn
activates infantile fantasies and wishes, and necessitates the need to adapt
to the inner world.

The best examples of such regressions are found in hysterical
cases where a disappointment in love or marriage has precipitated a neurosis.
There we find those well-known digestive disorders, loss of appetite,
dyspeptic symptoms of all sorts, etc. . . . [typically accompanied by]
a regressive revival of reminiscences from the distant past. We then find
a reactivation of the parental imagos, of the Oedipus complex. Here the
events of early infancy-never before important-suddenly become so. They
have been regressively reactivated. Remove the obstacle from the path
of life and this whole system of infantile fantasies at once breaks down
and becomes as inactive and ineffective as before.["Psychoanalysis
and Neurosis," CW4, par. 569.]

In his model of typology, Jung described two substantially different modes
of adaptation, introversion and extraversion. He also link-ed failures in
adaptation to the outbreak of neurosis.

The psychological trouble in neurosis, and the neurosis itself,
can be formulated as an act of adaptation that has failed.[
Ibid., par. 574 (italics in original).]

Affect. Emotional reactions marked by physical symptoms and disturbances
in thinking. (See also complex and feeling.)

Affect is invariably a sign that a complex has been activated.

Affects occur usually where adaptation is weakest, and at the
same time they reveal the reason for its weakness, namely a certain degree
of inferiority and the existence of a lower level of personality. On this
lower level with its uncontrolled or scarcely controlled emotions one
. . . [is] singularly incapable of moral judgment.[The Shadow,"
Aion, CW 9ii, par. 15.]

Ambivalence. A state of mind where every attitude or anticipated
course of action is counterbalanced by its opposite. (See also conflict
and opposites.)

Ambivalence is associated in general with the influence of unconscious
complexes, and in particular with the psychological functions when they
have not been differentiated.

Amplification. A method of association based on the comparative
study of mythology, religion and fairy tales, used in the interpretation
of images in dreams and drawings.

Analysis, Jungian. A form of therapy specializing in neurosis,
aimed at bringing unconscious contents to consciousness; also called analytic
therapy, based on the school of thought developed by C.G. Jung called
analytical (or complex) psychology.

[Analysis] is only a means for removing the stones from the
path of development, and not a method . . . of putting things into the
patient that were not there before. It is better to renounce any attempt
to give direction, and simply try to throw into relief everything that
the analysis brings to light, so that the patient can see it clearly and
be able to draw suitable conclusions. Anything he has not acquired himself
he will not believe in the long run, and what he takes over from authority
merely keeps him infantile. He should rather be put in a position to take
his own life in hand. The art of analysis lies in following the patient
on all his erring ways and so gathering his strayed sheep together.[Some
Crucial Points in Psychoanalysis," CW 4, par. 643.]

There is a widespread prejudice that analysis is something like a "cure,"
to which one submits for a time and is then discharged healed. That
is a layman's error left over from the early days of psychoanalysis.
Analytical treatment could be described as a readjustment of psychological
attitude achieved with the help of the doctor. . . . [But] there is
no change that is unconditionally valid over a long period of time.[The
Transcendent Function," CW 8, par. 142.]

Jung initially made a distinction between analysis of the unconscious [
Jung deliberately used this expression instead of "psychoanalysis": "I wish
to leave that term entirely to the Freudians. What they understand by psychoanalysis
is no mere technique, but a method which is dogmatically bound up with and
based upon Freud's sexual theory. When Freud publicly declared that psychoanalysis
and his sexual theory were indissolubly wedded, I was obliged to strike
out on a different path." ("Analytical Psychology and Education,"
CW 17, par. 180)] and anamnestic analysis. The latter is concerned
primarily with contents of consciousness already available or easily brought
to mind, and with supporting or strengthening the ego. The unconscious is
a factor only indirectly.

It consists in a careful anamnesis or reconstruction of the
historical development of the neurosis. The material elicited in this
way is a more or less coherent sequence of facts told to the doctor by
the patient, so far as he can remember them. He naturally omits many details
which either seem unimportant to him or which he has forgotten. The experienced
analyst who knows the usual course of neurotic development will put questions
which help the patient to fill in some of the gaps. Very often this procedure
by itself is of great therapeutic value, as it enables the patient to
understand the chief factors of his neurosis and may eventually bring
him to a decisive change of attitude.["Analytical Psychology
and Education," ibid., par. 177.]

In addition to the favourable effect produced by the realization of
previously unconscious connections, it is usual for the doctor to give
some good advice, or encouragement, or even a reproof.[
Ibid., par. 178.]

Analysis of the unconscious begins when conscious material has been exhausted
and there is still no satisfactory resolution of the neurosis; it requires
an ego strong enough to deal directly with unconscious material, particularly
dreams. Jung believed that analysis in this sense was particularly suited
to psychological problems in the second half of life, but even then he expressed
caution.

Consistent support of the conscious attitude has in itself a
high therapeutic value and not infrequently serves to bring about satisfactory
results. It would be a dangerous prejudice to imagine that analysis of
the unconscious is the one and only panacea which should therefore be
employed in every case. It is rather like a surgical operation and we
should only resort to the knife when other methods have failed. So long
as it does not obtrude itself the unconscious is best left alone.[The
Psychology of the Transference," CW 16, par. 381.]

In his analytic work, Jung shunned diagnosis and prognosis. He used no systematic
technique or method. His aim was to approach each case with a minimum of
prior assumptions, although he acknowledged that the personality and psychological
disposition of the analyst made complete objectivity impossible.

The ideal would naturally be to have no assumptions at all.
But this is impossible even if one exercises the most rigorous self-criticism,
for one is oneself the biggest of all one's assumptions, and the one with
the gravest consequences. Try as we may to have no assumptions and to
use no ready-made methods, the assumption that I myself am will determine
my method: as I am, so will I proceed. ["Appendix," ibid.,
par.543.]

Jung also insisted that those training to be analysts must have a thorough
personal analysis.

We have learned to place in the foreground the personality of
the doctor himself as a curative or harmful factor; . . . what is now
demanded is his own transformation-the self-education of the educator.
. . . The doctor can no longer evade his own difficulty by treating the
difficulties of others: the man who suffers from a running abscess is
not fit to perform a surgical operation.["Problems of Modern
Psychotherapy," ibid., par. 172.]

Anima. The inner feminine side of a man. (See also animus,
Eros, Logos and soul-image.)
The anima is both a personal complex and an archetypal image of woman in
the male psyche. It is an unconscious factor incarnated anew in every male
child, and is responsible for the mechanism of projection. Initially identified
with the personal mother, the anima is later experienced not only in other
women but as a pervasive influence in a man's life.

The anima is the archetype of life itself.["Archetypes
of the Collective Unconscious," CW 9i, par. 66.]

There is [in man] an imago not only of the mother but of the daughter,
the sister, the beloved, the heavenly goddess, and the chthonic Baubo.
Every mother and every beloved is forced to become the carrier and embodiment
of this omnipresent and ageless image, which corresponds to the deepest
reality in a man. It belongs to him, this perilous image of Woman; she
stands for the loyalty which in the interests of life he must sometimes
forego; she is the much needed compensation for the risks, struggles,
sacrifices that all end in disappointment; she is the solace for all
the bitterness of life. And, at the same time, she is the great illusionist,
the seductress, who draws him into life with her Maya-and not only into
life's reasonable and useful aspects, but into its frightful paradoxes
and ambivalences where good and evil, success and ruin, hope and despair,
counterbalance one another. Because she is his greatest danger she demands
from a man his greatest, and if he has it in him she will receive it.[The
Syzygy: Anima and Animus," CW 9ii, par. 24]

The anima is personified in dreams by images of women ranging from seductress
to spiritual guide. It is associated with the eros principle, hence a man's
anima development is reflected in how he relates to women. Within his own
psyche, the anima functions as his soul, influencing his ideas, attitudes
and emotions.

The anima is not the soul in the dogmatic sense, not an anima
rationalis, which is a philosophical conception, but a natural archetype
that satisfactorily sums up all the statements of the unconscious, of
the primitive mind, of the history of language and religion. . . . It
is always the a priori element in [a man's] moods, reactions, impulses,
and whatever else is spontaneous in psychic life.["Archetypes
of the Collective Unconscious," CW 9i, par. 57.]

The anima . . . . intensifies, exaggerates, falsifies, and mythologizes
all emotional relations with his work and with other people of both
sexes. The resultant fantasies and entanglements are all her doing.
When the anima is strongly constellated, she softens the man's character
and makes him touchy, irritable, moody, jealous, vain, and unadjusted.["Concerning
the Archetypes and the Anima Concept,"[ ibid., par. 144.]

As an inner personality, the anima is complementary to the persona and stands
in a compensatory relationship to it.

The persona, the ideal picture of a man as he should be, is
inwardly compensated by feminine weakness, and as the individual outwardly
plays the strong man, so he becomes inwardly a woman, i.e., the anima,
for it is the anima that reacts to the persona. But because the inner
world is dark and invisible . . . and because a man is all the less capable
of conceiving his weaknesses the more he is identified with the persona,
the persona's counterpart, the anima, remains completely in the dark and
is at once projected, so that our hero comes under the heel of his wife's
slipper.["Anima and Animus," CW 7, par. 309.]

Hence the character of the anima can generally be deduced from that of the
persona; all those qualities absent from the outer attitude will be found
in the inner.

The tyrant tormented by bad dreams, gloomy forebodings, and
inner fears is a typical figure. Outwardly ruthless, harsh, and unapproachable,
he jumps inwardly at every shadow, is at the mercy of every mood, as though
he were the feeblest and most impressionable of men. Thus his anima contains
all those fallible human qualities his persona lacks. If the persona is
intellectual, the anima will certainly be sentimental.["Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 804.]

Similarly, where a man identifies with the persona, he is in effect possessed
by the anima, with attendant symptoms.

Identity with the persona automatically leads to an unconscious
identity with the anima because, when the ego is not differentiated from
the persona, it can have no conscious relation to the unconscious processes.
Consequently it is these processes, it is identical with them. Anyone
who is himself his outward role will infallibly succumb to the inner processes;
he will either frustrate his outward role by absolute inner necessity
or else reduce it to absurdity, by a process of enantiodromia. He can
no longer keep to his individual way, and his life runs into one deadlock
after another. Moreover, the anima is inevitably projected upon a real
object, with which he gets into a relation of almost total dependence.[Ibid.,
par. 807.]

Jung distinguished four broad stages of the anima, analogous to levels of
the Eros cult described in the late classical period. He personified them
as Eve, Helen, Mary and Sophia.["The Psychology of the Transference,"
CW 16, par. 361. ]

In the first stage, Eve, the anima is indistinguishable from the personal
mother. The man cannot function well without a close tie to a woman. In
the second stage, personified in the historical figure of Helen of Troy,
the anima is a collective and ideal sexual image ("All is dross that is
not Helen"-Marlowe). The third stage, Mary, manifests in religious feelings
and a capacity for lasting relationships. In the fourth stage, as Sophia
(called Wisdom in the Bible), a man's anima functions as a guide to the
inner life, mediating to consciousness the contents of the unconscious.
She cooperates in the search for meaning and is the creative muse in an
artist's life.

Ideally, a man's anima proceeds naturally through these stages as he
grows older. In fact, as an archetypal life force, the anima manifests
in whatever shape or form is necessary to compensate the dominant conscious
attitude.

So long as the anima is unconscious, everything she stands for is projected.
Most commonly, because of the initially close tie between the anima and
the protective mother-imago, this projection falls on the partner, with
predictable results.

[A man's] ideal of marriage is so arranged that his wife has
to take over the magical role of the mother. Under the cloak of the ideally
exclusive marriage he is really seeking his mother's protection, and thus
he plays into the hands of his wife's possessive instincts. His fear of
the dark incalculable power of the unconscious gives his wife an illegitimate
authority over him, and forges such a dangerously close union that the
marriage is permanently on the brink of explosion from internal tension.["Anima
and Animus," CW 7, par. 316.]

No matter where a man is in terms of psychological development, he is always
prone to see aspects of his anima, his soul, in an actual woman. The same
is true of the animus. Their personal aspects may be integrated and their
significance understood, but their essential nature cannot be exhausted.

Though the effects of anima and animus can be made conscious,
they themselves are factors transcending consciousness and beyond the
reach of perception and volition. Hence they remain autonomous despite
the integration of their contents, and for this reason they should be
borne constantly in mind.[The Syzygy: Anima and Animus,"
CW 9ii, par. 40.]

The psychological priority in the first half of life is for a man to free
himself from the anima fascination of the mother. In later life, the lack
of a conscious relationship with the anima is attended by symptoms characteristic
of "loss of soul."

Younger people . . . can bear even the total loss of the anima
without injury. The important thing at this stage is for a man to be a
man. . . . After the middle of life, however, permanent loss of the anima
means a diminution of vitality, of flexibility, and of human kindness.
The result, as a rule, is premature rigidity, crustiness, stereotypy,
fanatical one-sidedness, obstinacy, pedantry, or else resignation, weariness,
sloppiness, irresponsibility, and finally a childish ramollissement
[petulance] with a tendency to alcohol.["Concerning the
Archetypes and the Anima Concept," CW 9i, par. 146f.]

One way for a man to become familiar with the nature of his anima is through
the method of active imagination. This is done by personifying her as an
autonomous personality, asking her questions and attending to the response.

I mean this as an actual technique. . . . The art of it consists
only in allowing our invisible partner to make herself heard, in putting
the mechanism of expression momentarily at her disposal, without being
overcome by the distaste one naturally feels at playing such an apparently
ludicrous game with oneself, or by doubts as to the genuineness of the
voice of one's interlocutor.["Anima and Animus," CW 7, pars.
323f.]

Jung suggested that if the encounter with the shadow is the "apprentice-piece"
in a man's development, then coming to terms with the anima is the "master-piece."["Archetypes
of the Collective Unconscious," CW 9i, par. 61.] The goal is her
transformation from a troublesome adversary into a function of relationship
between consciousness and the unconscious. Jung called this "the conquest
of the anima as an autonomous complex."

With the attainment of this goal it becomes possible to disengage
the ego from all its entanglements with collectivity and the collective
unconscious. Through this process the anima forfeits the daemonic power
of an autonomous complex; she can no longer exercise the power of possession,
since she is depotentiated. She is no longer the guardian of treasures
unknown; no longer Kundry, daemonic Messenger of the Grail, half divine
and half animal; no longer is the soul to be called "Mistress," but a
psychological function of an intuitive nature, akin to what the primitives
mean when they say, "He has gone into the forest to talk with the spirits"
or "My snake spoke with me" or, in the mythological language of infancy,
"A little bird told me."[The Mana-Personality," CW 7, par.
374.]

Animus. The inner masculine side of a woman. (See also anima,
Eros, Logos and soul-image.)
Like the anima in a man, the animus is both a personal complex and an archetypal
image.

Woman is compensated by a masculine element and therefore her
unconscious has, so to speak, a masculine imprint. This results in a considerable
psychological difference between men and women, and accordingly I have
called the projection-making factor in women the animus, which means mind
or spirit. The animus corresponds to the paternal Logos just as the anima
corresponds to the maternal Eros.[The Syzygy: Anima and
Animus," CW 9ii, pars. 28f.]

The animus is the deposit, as it were, of all woman's ancestral experiences
of man-and not only that, he is also a creative and procreative being,
not in the sense of masculine creativity, but in the sense that he brings
forth something we might call . . . the spermatic word.["Anima
and Animus," CW 7, par. 336.]

Whereas the anima in a man functions as his soul, a woman's animus is more
like an unconscious mind.[At times Jung also referred to the animus as
a woman's soul. See soul and soul-image.] It manifests
negatively in fixed ideas, collective opinions and unconscious, a priori
assumptions that lay claim to absolute truth. In a woman who is identified
with the animus (called animus-possession), Eros generally takes second
place to Logos.

A woman possessed by the animus is always in danger of losing
her femininity.[Anima and Animus," CW 7, par. 337.]

No matter how friendly and obliging a woman's Eros may be, no logic
on earth can shake her if she is ridden by the animus. . . . [A man]
is unaware that this highly dramatic situation would instantly come
to a banal and unexciting end if he were to quit the field and let a
second woman carry on the battle (his wife, for instance, if she herself
is not the fiery war horse). This sound idea seldom or never occurs
to him, because no man can converse with an animus for five minutes
without becoming the victim of his own anima.[The Syzygy:
Anima and Animus," CW 9ii, par. 29.]

The animus becomes a helpful psychological factor when a woman can tell
the difference between the ideas generated by this autonomous complex and
what she herself really thinks.

Like the anima, the animus too has a positive aspect. Through
the figure of the father he expresses not only conventional opinion but-equally-what
we call "spirit," philosophical or religious ideas in particular, or rather
the attitude resulting from them. Thus the animus is a psychopomp, a mediator
between the conscious and the unconscious and a personification of the
latter.[Ibid., par. 33.]

Jung described four stages of animus development in a woman. He first appears
in dreams and fantasy as the embodiment of physical power, an athlete, muscle
man or thug. In the second stage, the animus provides her with initiative
and the capacity for planned action. He is behind a woman's desire for independence
and a career of her own. In the next stage, the animus is the "word," often
personified in dreams as a professor or clergyman. In the fourth stage,
the animus is the incarnation of spiritual meaning. On this highest level,
like the anima as Sophia, the animus mediates between a woman's conscious
mind and the unconscious. In mythology this aspect of the animus appears
as Hermes, messenger of the gods; in dreams he is a helpful guide.

Any of these aspects of the animus can be projected onto a man. As with
the projected anima, this can lead to unrealistic expectations and acrimony
in relationships.

Like the anima, the animus is a jealous lover. He is adept at
putting, in place of the real man, an opinion about him, the exceedingly
disputable grounds for which are never submitted to criticism. Animus
opinions are invariably collective, and they override individuals and
individual judgments in exactly the same way as the anima thrusts her
emotional anticipations and projections between man and wife.["Anima
and Animus," CW 7, par. 334.]

The existence of the contrasexual complexes means that in any relationship
between a man and a woman there are at least four personalities involved.
The possible lines of communication are shown by the arrows in the diagram.[Adapted
from "The Psychology of the Transference," CW 16, par. 422.]

While a man's task in assimilating the effects of the anima involves
discovering his true feelings, a woman becomes familiar with the nature
of the animus by constantly questioning her ideas and opinions.

The technique of coming to terms with the animus is the same
in principle as in the case of the anima; only here the woman must learn
to criticize and hold her opinions at a distance; not in order to repress
them, but, by investigating their origins, to penetrate more deeply into
the background, where she will then discover the primordial images, just
as the man does in his dealings with the anima.[Anima and
Animus," CW 7, par. 336.]

Anthropos. Original or primordial man, an archetypal image of wholeness
in alchemy, religion and Gnostic philosophy.

There is in the unconscious an already existing wholeness, the
"homo totus" of the Western and the Chên-yên (true man) of
Chinese alchemy, the round primordial being who represents the greater
man within, the Anthropos, who is akin to God.[The Personification
of the Opposites," CW 14, par. 152.]

Apotropaic. Descriptive of "magical thinking," based on the desire
to depotentiate the influence of an object or person. Apotropaic actions
are characteristic of introversion as a mode of psychological orientation.

I have seen an introverted child who made his first attempts
to walk only after he had learned the names of all the objects in the
room he might touch.[Psychological Types," CW 6, par. 897.]

Apperception. A psychic process by which a new conscious content
is articulated with similar, already existing contents in such a way that
it is understood. (Compare assimilation.)

Sense-perceptions tell us that something is. But they do not
tell us what it is. This is told us not by the process of perception but
by the process of apperception, and this has a highly complex structure.
Not that sense-perception is anything simple; only, its complex nature
is not so much psychic as physiological. The complexity of apperception,
on the other hand, is psychic. [The Structure of the Psyche,"
CW 8, par. 288.]

Jung distinguishes active from passive apperception. In active
apperception, the ego grabs hold of something new and comes to grips with
it. In passive apperception, the new content forces itself upon consciousness,
either from outside (through the senses) or from within (the unconscious).
Apperception may also be either directed or undirected.

In the former case we speak of "attention," in the latter case
of "fantasy" or "dreaming." The directed processes are rational, the undirected
irrational. [Ibid., par. 294.]

Archaic. Primal or original. (See also participation mystique.)

Every civilized human being, however high his conscious development,
is still an archaic man at the deeper levels of his psyche.[Archaic
Man," CW 10, par. 105]

In anthropology, the term archaic is generally descriptive of primitive
psychology. Jung used it when referring to thoughts, fantasies and feelings
that are not consciously differentiated.

Archaism attaches primarily to the fantasies of the unconscious,
i.e., to the products of unconscious fantasy activity which reach consciousness.
An image has an archaic quality when it possesses unmistakable mythological
parallels. Archaic, too, are the associations-by-analogy of unconscious
fantasy, and so is their symbolism. The relation of identity with an object,
or participation mystique, is likewise archaic. Concretism of thought
and feeling is archaic; also compulsion and inability to control oneself
(ecstatic or trance state, possession, etc.). Fusion of the psychological
functions, of thinking with feeling, feeling with sensation, feeling with
intuition, and so on, is archaic, as is also the fusion of part of a function
with its counterpart.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 684.]

Archetypes are systems of readiness for action, and at the same
time images and emotions. They are inherited with the brain structure-indeed
they are its psychic aspect. They represent, on the one hand, a very strong
instinctive conservatism, while on the other hand they are the most effective
means conceivable of instinctive adaptation. They are thus, essentially,
the chthonic portion of the psyche . . . that portion through which the
psyche is attached to nature.["Mind and Earth," CW 10, par.
53.]

It is not . . . a question of inherited ideas but of inherited possibilities
of ideas. Nor are they individual acquisitions but, in the main, common
to all, as can be seen from [their] universal occurrence.["Concerning
the Archetypes and the Anima Concept," CW 9i, par. 136.]

Archetypes are irrepresentable in themselves but their effects are discernible
in archetypal images and motifs.

Archetypes . . . present themselves as ideas and images, like
everything else that becomes a content of consciousness.[On
the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 435.]

Archetypes are, by definition, factors and motifs that arrange the
psychic elements into certain images, characterized as archetypal, but
in such a way that they can be recognized only from the effects they
produce.["A Psychological Approach to the Trinity," CW
11, par. 222, note 2.]

Jung also described archetypes as "instinctual images," the forms which
the instincts assume. He illustrated this using the simile of the spectrum.

The dynamism of instinct is lodged as it were in the infra-red
part of the spectrum, whereas the instinctual image lies in the ultra-violet
part. . . . The realization and assimilation of instinct never take place
at the red end, i.e., by absorption into the instinctual sphere, but only
through integration of the image which signifies and at the same time
evokes the instinct, although in a form quite different from the one we
meet on the biological level.["On the Nature of the Psyche,"
CW 8, par. 414.]

Psychologically . . . the archetype as an image of instinct
is a spiritual goal toward which the whole nature of man strives; it is
the sea to which all rivers wend their way, the prize which the hero wrests
from the fight with the dragon.[Ibid., par. 415.]

Archetypes manifest both on a personal level, through complexes, and collectively,
as characteristics of whole cultures. Jung believed it was the task of each
age to understand anew their content and their effects.

We can never legitimately cut loose from our archetypal foundations
unless we are prepared to pay the price of a neurosis, any more than we
can rid ourselves of our body and its organs without committing suicide.
If we cannot deny the archetypes or otherwise neutralize them, we are
confronted, at every new stage in the differentiation of consciousness
to which civilization attains, with the task of finding a new interpretation
appropriate to this stage, in order to connect the life of the past that
still exists in us with the life of the present, which threatens to slip
away from it.["The Psychology of the Child Archetype," CW
9i, par. 267.]

Archetypal image. The form or representation of an archetype
in consciousness. (See also collective unconscious.)

[The archetype is] a dynamism which makes itself felt in the
numinosity and fascinating power of the archetypal image.["On
the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 414.]

Archetypal images, as universal patterns or motifs which come from the collective
unconscious, are the basic content of religions, mythologies, legends and
fairy tales.

An archetypal content expresses itself, first and foremost,
in metaphors. If such a content should speak of the sun and identify with
it the lion, the king, the hoard of gold guarded by the dragon, or the
power that makes for the life and health of man, it is neither the one
thing nor the other, but the unknown third thing that finds more or less
adequate expression in all these similes, yet-to the perpetual vexation
of the intellect-remains unknown and not to be fitted into a formula.["The
Psychology of the Child Archetype," CW 9i, par. 267]

On a personal level, archetypal motifs are patterns of thought or behavior
that are common to humanity at all times and in all places.

For years I have been observing and investigating the products
of the unconscious in the widest sense of the word, namely dreams, fantasies,
visions, and delusions of the insane. I have not been able to avoid recognizing
certain regularities, that is, types. There are types of situations
and types of figures that repeat themselves frequently and have
a corresponding meaning. I therefore employ the term "motif" to designate
these repetitions. Thus there are not only typical dreams but typical
motifs in dreams. . . . [These] can be arranged under a series of archetypes,
the chief of them being . . . the shadow, the wise old man,
the child (including the child hero), the mother ("Primordial Mother"
and "Earth Mother") as a supraordinate personality ("daemonic" because
supraordinate), and her counterpart the maiden, and lastly the
anima in man and the animus in woman.["The
Psychological Aspects of the Kore," ibid., par. 309.]

Assimilation is the approximation of a new content of consciousness
to already constellated subjective material . . . . Fundament-ally, [it]
is a process of apperception, but is distinguished from apperception by
this element of approximation to the subjective material. . . . I use
the term assimilation . . . as the approximation of object to subject
in general, and with it I contrast dissimilation, as the approximation
of subject to object, and a consequent alienation of the subject from
himself in favour of the object, whether it be an external object or a
"psychological" object, for instance an idea.["Definitions,"
CW 6, pars. 685f.]

Association. A spontaneous flow of interconnected thoughts and images
around a specific idea, often determined by unconscious connections. (See
also Word Association Experiment.)
Personal associations to images in dreams, together with amplification,
are an important initial step in their interpretation.

Attitude. The readiness of the psyche to act or react in a certain
way, based on an underlying psychological orientation. (See also
adaptation, type and typology.)

From a great number of existing or possible attitudes I have
singled out four; those, namely, that are primarily oriented by the four
basic psychological functions: thinking, feeling, sensation, intuition.
When any of these attitudes is habitual, thus setting a definite
stamp on the character of an individual, I speak of a psychological type.
These function-types, which one can call the thinking, feeling,
sen-sation, and intuitive types, may be divided into two classes . . .
the rational and the irrational. . . . A further division into two classes
is permitted by the predominant trend of the movement of libido, namely
introversion and extraversion.[Ibid., par. 835.]

The whole psychology of an individual even in its most fundamental
features is oriented in accordance with his habitual attitude. . . .
[which is] a resultant of all the factors that exert a decisive influence
on the psyche, such as innate disposition, environmental influences,
experience of life, insights and convictions gained through differentiation,
collective views, etc. . . .At bottom, attitude is an individual phenomenon
that eludes scientific investigation. In actual experience, however,
certain typical attitudes can be distinguished . . . . When a function
habitually predominates, a typical attitude is produced. . . . There
is thus a typical thinking, feeling, sensation, and intuitive attitude.[Ibid.,
pars. 690f.]

Adaptation to one's environment requires an appropriate attitude. But due
to changing circumstances, no one attitude is permanently suitable. When
a particular attitude is no longer appropriate, whether to internal or external
reality, the stage is set for psychological difficulties (e.g., an outbreak
of neurosis).

For example, a feeling-attitude that seeks to fulfil the demands
of reality by means of empathy may easily encounter a situation that can
only be solved through thinking. In this case the feeling-attitude breaks
down and the progression of libido also ceases. The vital feeling that
was present before disappears, and in its place the psychic value of certain
conscious contents increases in an unpleasant way; subjective contents
and reactions press to the fore and the situation becomes full of affect
and ripe for explosions.["On Psychic Energy," CW 8, par.
61.]

The tension leads to conflict, the conflict leads to attempts at mutual
repression, and if one of the opposing forces is successfully repressed
a dissociation ensues, a splitting of the personality, or disunion with
oneself.[Ibid.]

Autonomous. Independent of the conscious will, associated in general
with the nature of the unconscious and in particular with activated complexes.

Auxiliary function. A helpful second or third function, according
to Jung's model of typology, that has a co-determining influence
on consciousness.

Absolute sovereignty always belongs, empirically, to one function
alone, and can belong only to one function, because the equally independent
intervention of another function would necessarily produce a different
orientation which, partially at least, would contradict the first. But
since it is a vital condition for the conscious process of adaptation
always to have clear and unambiguous aims, the presence of a second function
of equal power is naturally ruled out. This other function, therefore,
can have only a secondary importance. . . . Its secondary importance is
due to the fact that it is not, like the primary function . . . an absolutely
reliable and decisive factor, but comes into play more as an auxiliary
or complementary function.["General Description of the Types,"
CW 6, par. 667.]

The auxiliary function is always one whose nature differs from, but is not
antagonistic to, the superior or primary function: either of the irrational
functions (intuition and sensation) can be auxiliary to one of the rational
functions (thinking and feeling), and vice versa.

Thus thinking and intuition can readily pair, as can thinking and sensation,
since the nature of intuition and sensation is not fundamentally opposed
to the thinking function. Similarly, sensation can be bolstered by an
auxiliary function of thinking or feeling, feeling is aided by sensation
or intuition, and intuition goes well with feeling or thinking.

The resulting combinations [see figure below] present
the familiar picture of, for instance, practical thinking allied with
sensation, speculative thinking forging ahead with intuition, artistic
intuition selecting and presenting its images with the help of feeling-values,
philosophical intuition systematizing its vision into comprehensive thought
by means of a powerful intellect, and so on.[Ibid., par.
669.]

Type Combinations

Axiom of Maria. A precept in alchemy: "One becomes two, two becomes
three, and out of the third comes the one as the fourth."

Jung used the axiom of Maria as a metaphor for the whole process of individuation.
One is the original state of unconscious wholeness; two
signifies the conflict between opposites; three points to a potential
resolution; the third is the transcendent function; and the
one as the fourth is a transformed state of consciousness, relatively
whole and at peace.

Cathartic method. A confessional approach to treating neurosis,
involving the abreaction of emotions associated with a trauma.

Through confession I throw myself into the arms of humanity
again, freed at last from the burden of moral exile. The goal of the cathartic
method is full confession-not merely the intellectual recognition of the
facts with the head, but their confirmation by the heart and the actual
release of suppressed emotion.["Problems of Modern Psychotherapy,"
CW 16, par. 134.]

Jung acknowledged the therapeutic value of catharsis, but early in his career
he recognized its limitations in the process of analysis.

The new psychology would have remained at the stage of confession
had catharsis proved itself a panacea. First and foremost, however, it
is not always possible to bring the patients close enough to the unconscious
for them to perceive the shadows. . . . They have quite enough to confess
already, they say; they do not have to turn to the unconscious for that.[Ibid.,
par. 137.]

Causal. An approach to the interpretation of psychic phenomena based
on cause and effect. (See also final and reductive.)

Child. Psychologically, an image of both the irrecoverable past
and an anticipation of future development. (See also incest.)

The "child" is . . . . both beginning and end, an initial and
a terminal creature. . . . the pre-conscious and the post-conscious essence
of man. His pre-conscious essence is the unconscious state of earliest
childhood; his post-conscious essence is an anticipation by analogy of
life after death. In this idea the all-embracing nature of psychic wholeness
is expressed.["The Psychology of the Child Archetype," CW
9i, par. 299.]

Feelings of alienation or abandonment can constellate the child archetype.
The effects are two-fold: the "poor-me" syndrome characteristic of the regressive
longing for dependence, and, paradoxically, a desperate desire to be free
of the past-the positive side of the divine child archetype.

Abandonment, exposure, danger, etc., are all elaborations of
the "child's" insignificant beginnings and of its mysterious and miraculous
birth. This statement describes a certain psychic experience of a creative
nature, whose object is the emergence of a new and as yet unknown content.
In the psychology of the individual there is always, at such moments,
an agonizing situation of conflict from which there seems to be no way
out-at least for the conscious mind, since as far as this is concerned,
tertium non datur.[Ibid., par. 285.]

"Child" means something evolving towards independence. This it cannot
do without detaching itself from its origins: abandonment is therefore
a necessary condition [of consciousness], not just a concomitant symptom.[Ibid.,
par. 287.]

Circumambulation. A term used to describe the interpretation of an
image by reflecting on it from different points of view. Circumambulation
differs from free association in that it is circular, not linear. Where
free association leads away from the original image, circumambulation stays
close to it.

Collective. Psychic contents that belong not to one individual
but to a society, a people or the human race in general. (See also collective
unconscious, individuation and persona.)

The conscious personality is a more or less arbitrary segment
of the collective psyche. It consists in a sum of psychic factors that
are felt to be personal ["The Persona as a Segment of the
Collective Psyche," CW 7, par. 244.]

Identification with the collective and voluntary segregation from it
are alike synonymous with disease.[The Structure of the
Unconscious," ibid., par. 485]

A collective quality adheres not only to particular psychic elements or
contents but to whole psychological functions.

Thus the thinking function as a whole can have a collective
quality, when it possesses general validity and accords with the laws
of logic. Similarly, the feeling function as a whole can be collective,
when it is identical with the general feeling and accords with general
expectations, the general moral consciousness, etc. In the same way, sensation
and intuition are collective when they are at the same time characteristic
of a large group.["Definitions," CW 6, par. 692.]

Collective unconscious. A structural layer of the human psyche containing
inherited elements, distinct from the personal unconscious. (See
also archetype and archetypal image.)

The collective unconscious contains the whole spiritual heritage
of mankind's evolution, born anew in the brain structure of every individual.[The
Structure of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 342.]

Jung derived his theory of the collective unconscious from the ubiquity
of psychological phenomena that could not be explained on the basis of personal
experience. Unconscious fantasy activity, for instance, falls into two categories.

First, fantasies (including dreams) of a personal character,
which go back unquestionably to personal experiences, things forgotten
or repressed, and can thus be completely explained by individual anamnesis.
Second, fantasies (including dreams) of an impersonal character, which
cannot be reduced to experiences in the individual's past, and thus cannot
be explained as something individually acquired. These fantasy-images
undoubtedly have their closest analogues in mythological types. . . .
These cases are so numerous that we are obliged to assume the existence
of a collective psychic substratum. I have called this the collective
unconscious.[The Psychology of the Child Archetype,"
CW 9i, par. 262.]

The collective unconscious-so far as we can say anything about it at
all-appears to consist of mythological motifs or primordial images,
for which reason the myths of all nations are its real exponents. In
fact, the whole of mythology could be taken as a sort of projection
of the collective unconscious. . . . We can therefore study the collective
unconscious in two ways, either in mythology or in the analysis of the
individual.["The Structure of the Psyche," CW 8, par.
325.]

The more one becomes aware of the contents of the personal unconscious,
the more is revealed of the rich layer of images and motifs that comprise
the collective unconscious. This has the effect of enlarging the personality.

In this way there arises a consciousness which is no longer
imprisoned in the petty, oversensitive, personal world of the ego, but
participates freely in the wider world of objective interests. This widened
consciousness is no longer that touchy, egotistical bundle of personal
wishes, fears, hopes, and ambitions which always has to be compensated
or corrected by unconscious counter-tendencies; instead, it is a function
of relationship to the world of objects, bringing the individual into
absolute, binding, and indissoluble communion with the world at large.[The
Function of the Unconscious," CW 7, par. 275.]

Compensation. A natural process aimed at establishing or maintaining
balance within the psyche. (See also active imagination, dreams, neurosis
and self-regulation of the psyche.)

The activity of consciousness is selective. Selection demands
direction. But direction requires the exclusion of everything irrelevant.
This is bound to make the conscious orientation one-sided. The contents
that are excluded and inhibited by the chosen direction sink into the
unconscious, where they form a counterweight to the conscious orientation.
The strengthening of this counterposition keeps pace with the increase
of conscious one-sidedness until finally . . . . the repressed unconscious
contents break through in the form of dreams and spontaneous images. .
. . As a rule, the unconscious compensation does not run counter to consciousness,
but is rather a balancing or supplementing of the conscious orientation.
In dreams, for instance, the unconscious supplies all those contents that
are constellated by the conscious situation but are inhibited by conscious
selection, although a knowledge of them would be indispensable for complete
adaptation["Definitions," CW 6, par. 694.]

In neurosis, where consciousness is one-sided to an extreme, the aim of
analytic therapy is the realization and assimilation of unconscious contents
so that compensation may be reestablished. This can often be accomplished
by paying close attention to dreams, emotions and behavior patterns, and
through active imagination.

Complex. An emotionally charged group of ideas or images. (See
also Word Association Experiment.)

[A complex] is the image of a certain psychic situation
which is strongly accentuated emotionally and is, moreover, incompatible
with the habitual attitude of consciousness.["A Review of
the Complex Theory," CW 8, par. 201.]

The via regia to the unconscious . . . is not the dream, as
[Freud] thought, but the complex, which is the architect of dreams and
of symptoms. Nor is this via so very "royal," either, since the
way pointed out by the complex is more like a rough and uncommonly devious
footpath.[ Ibid., par. 210.]

Formally, complexes are "feeling-toned ideas" that over the years accumulate
around certain archetypes, for instance "mother" and "father." When complexes
are constellated, they are invariably accompanied by affect. They are always
relatively autonomous.

Complexes interfere with the intentions of the will and disturb
the conscious performance; they produce disturbances of memory and blockages
in the flow of associations; they appear and disappear according to their
own laws; they can temporarily obsess consciousness, or influence speech
and action in an unconscious way. In a word, complexes behave like independent
beings.[Psychological Factors in Human Behaviour," ibid.,
par. 253.]

Complexes are in fact "splinter psyches." The aetiology of their origin
is frequently a so-called trauma, an emotional shock or some such thing,
that splits off a bit of the psyche. Certainly one of the commonest
causes is a moral conflict, which ultimately derives from the apparent
impossibility of affirming the whole of one's nature.["A
Review of the Complex Theory," ibid., par. 204.]

Everyone knows nowadays that people "have complexes." What is not so
well known, though far more important theoretically, is that complexes
can have us.[Ibid., par. 200.]

Jung stressed that complexes in themselves are not negative; only their
effects often are. In the same way that atoms and molecules are the invisible
components of physical objects, complexes are the building blocks of the
psyche and the source of all human emotions.

Complexes are focal or nodal points of psychic life which we
would not wish to do without; indeed, they should not be missing, for
otherwise psychic activity would come to a fatal standstill.["A
Psychological Theory of Types," CW 6, par. 925.]

Complexes obviously represent a kind of inferiority in the broadest
sense . . . [but] to have complexes does not necessarily indicate inferiority.
It only means that something discordant, unassimilated, and antagonistic
exists, perhaps as an obstacle, but also as an incentive to greater
effort, and so, perhaps, to new possibilities of achievement.[Ibid.,
par. 925.]

Some degree of one-sidedness is unavoidable, and, in the same measure,
complexes are unavoidable too.["Psychological Factors
in Human Behaviour," CW 8, par. 255.]

The negative effect of a complex is commonly experienced as a distortion
in one or other of the psychological functions (feeling, thinking, intuition
and sensation). In place of sound judgment and an appropriate feeling response,
for instance, one reacts according to what the complex dictates. As long
as one is unconscious of the complexes, one is liable to be driven by them.

The possession of complexes does not in itself signify neurosis
. . . and the fact that they are painful is no proof of pathological disturbance.
Suffering is not an illness; it is the normal counterpole to happiness.
A complex becomes pathological only when we think we have not got it.[Psychotherapy
and a Philosophy of Life," CW 16, par. 179.]

Identification with a complex, particularly the anima/animus and the shadow,
is a frequent source of neurosis. The aim of analysis in such cases is not
to get rid of the complexes-as if that were possible-but to minimize their
negative effects by understanding the part they play in behavior patterns
and emotional reactions.

A complex can be really overcome only if it is lived out to
the full. In other words, if we are to develop further we have to draw
to us and drink down to the very dregs what, because of our complexes,
we have held at a distance.["Psychological Aspects of the
Mother Archetype," CW 9i, par. 184.]

Concretism. A way of thinking or feeling that is archaic and
undifferentiated, based entirely on perception through sensation. (Compare
abstraction.)

Concretism as a way of mental functioning is closely related to the more
general concept of participation mystique. Concrete thinking and
feeling are attuned to and bound by physiological stimuli and material
facts. Such an orientation is valuable in the recognition of outer reality,
but deficient in how it is interpreted.

Concretism results in a projection of . . . inner factors into
the objective data and produces an almost superstitious veneration of
mere facts.["Definitions," CW 6, par. 699.]

[Concrete thinking] has no detached independence but clings to material
phenomena. It rises at most to the level of analogy. Primitive
feeling is equally bound to material phenomena. Both of them depend
on sensation and are only slight differentiated from it. Concret-ism,
therefore, is an archaism. The magical influence of the fetish is not
experienced as a subjective state of feeling, but sensed as a magical
effect. That is concretistic feeling. The primitive does not experience
the idea of the divinity as a subjective content; for him the sacred
tree is the abode of the god, or even the god himself. That is concretistic
thinking. In civilized man, concretistic thinking consists in the inability
to conceive of anything except immediately obvious facts transmitted
by the senses, or in the inability to discriminate between subjective
feeling and the sensed object.[Ibid., par. 697.]

Conflict. A state of indecision, accompanied by inner tension. (See
also opposites and transcendent function.)

The apparently unendurable conflict is proof of the rightness
of your life. A life without inner contradiction is either only half a
life or else a life in the Beyond, which is destined only for angels.
But God loves human beings more than the angels.[C.G. Jung
Letters, vol. 1, p. 375.]

The self is made manifest in the opposites and in the conflict between
them; it is a coincidentia oppositorum [coincidence of opposites].
Hence the way to the self begins with conflict.["Individual
Dream Symbolism in Relation to Alchemy," CW 12, par. 259.]

Conflict is a hallmark of neurosis, but conflict is not invariably neurotic.
Some degree of conflict is even desirable since without some tension between
opposites the developmental process is inhibited. Conflict only becomes
neurotic when it interferes with the normal functioning of consciousness.

The stirring up of conflict is a Luciferian virtue in the true
sense of the word. Conflict engenders fire, the fire of affects and emotions,
and like every other fire it has two aspects, that of combustion and that
of creating light.["Psychological Aspects of the Mother
Archetype," CW 9i, par. 179.]

When a conflict is unconscious, tension manifests as physical symptoms,
particularly in the stomach, the back and the neck. Conscious conflict is
experienced as moral or ethical tension. Serious conflicts, especially those
involving love or duty, generally involve a disparity between the functions
of thinking and feeling. If one or the other is not a conscious participant
in the conflict, it needs to be introduced.

The objection [may be] advanced that many conflicts are intrinsically
insoluble. People sometimes take this view because they think only of
external solutions-which at bottom are not solutions at all. . . . A real
solution comes only from within, and then only because the patient has
been brought to a different attitude.["Some Crucial Points
in Psychoanalysis," CW 4, par. 606.]

Jung's major contribution to the psychology of conflict was his belief that
it had a purpose in terms of the self-regulation of the psyche. If the tension
between the opposites can be held in consciousness, then something will
happen internally to resolve the conflict. The solution, essentially irrational
and unforeseeable, generally appears as a new attitude toward oneself and
the outer situation, together with a sense of peace; energy previously locked
up in indecision is released and the progression of libido becomes possible.
Jung called this the tertium non datur or transcendent function,
because what happens transcends the opposites.

Holding the tension between opposites requires patience and a strong
ego, otherwise a decision will be made out of desperation. Then the opposite
will be constellated even more strongly and the conflict will continue
with renewed force.

Jung's basic hypothesis in working with neurotic conflict was that separate
personalities in oneself-complexes-were involved. As long as these are
not made conscious they are acted out externally, through projection.
Conflicts with other people are thus essentially externalizations of an
unconscious conflict within oneself.

Coniunctio. Literally, "conjunction," used in alchemy to refer
to chemical combinations; psychologically, it points to the union of opposites
and the birth of new possibilities.

The coniunctio is an a priori image that occupies
a prominent place in the history of man's mental development. If we trace
this idea back we find it has two sources in alchemy, one Christian, the
other pagan. The Christian source is unmistakably the doctrine of Christ
and the Church, sponsus and sponsa, where Christ takes the
role of Sol and the Church that of Luna. The pagan source is on the one
hand the hieros-gamos, on the other the marital union of the mystic with
God.[The Psychology of the Transference," CW 16, par. 355.]

Other alchemical terms used by Jung with a near-equivalent psychological
meaning include unio mystica (mystic or sacred marriage), coincidentia
oppositorum (coincidence of opposites), complexio oppositorum
(the opposites embodied in a single image) unus mundus (one world)
and Philosophers' Stone.

Consciousness. The function or activity which maintains the relation
of psychic contents to the ego; distinguished conceptually from the psyche,
which encompasses both consciousness and the unconscious. (See also opposites.)

There is no consciousness without discrimination of opposites.["Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype," CW 9i, par. 178.]

There are two distinct ways in which consciousness arises. The one
is a moment of high emotional tension, comparable to the scene in Parsifal
where the hero, at the very moment of greatest temptation, suddenly
realizes the meaning of Amfortas' wound. The other is a state of contemplation,
in which ideas pass before the mind like dream-images. Suddenly there
is a flash of association between two apparently disconnected and widely
separated ideas, and this has the effect of releasing a latent tension.
Such a moment often works like a revelation. In every case it seems
to be the discharge of energy-tension, whether external or internal,
which produces consciousness.["Analytical Psychology and
Education," CW 17, par. 207.]

In Jung's view of the psyche, individual consciousness is a superstructure
based on, and arising out of, the unconscious.

Consciousness does not create itself-it wells up from unknown
depths. In childhood it awakens gradually, and all through life it wakes
each morning out of the depths of sleep from an unconscious condition.
It is like a child that is born daily out of the primordial womb of the
unconscious. . . . It is not only influenced by the unconscious but continually
emerges out of it in the form of numberless spontaneous ideas and sudden
flashes of thought.["The Psychology of Eastern Meditation,"
CW 11, par. 935.]

Constellate. To activate, usually used with reference to a complex
and an accompanying pattern of emotional reactions.

This term simply expresses the fact that the outward situation
releases a psychic process in which certain contents gather together and
prepare for action. When we say that a person is "constellated" we mean
that he has taken up a position from which he can be expected to react
in a quite definite way. . . . The constellated contents are definite
complexes possessing their own specific energy.["A Review
of the Complex Theory," CW 8, par. 198.]

Constructive. An approach to the interpretation of psychic activity
based on its goal or purpose rather than its cause or source. (See also
final; compare reductive.)

I use constructive and synthetic to designate a method that
is the antithesis of reductive. The constructive method is concerned with
the elaboration of the products of the unconscious (dreams, fantasies,
etc.). It takes the unconscious product as a symbolic expression which
anticipates a coming phase of psychological development["Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 701.]

The constructive or synthetic method of treatment presupposes insights
which are at least potentially present in the patient and can therefore
be made conscious.["The Transcendent Function," CW 8,
par. 145.]

The constructive method involves both the amplification of symbols and their
interpretation on the subjective level. Its use in dream interpretation
aims at understanding how the conscious orientation may be modified in light
of the dream's symbolic message. This is in line with Jung's belief that
the psyche is a self-regulating system.

In the treatment of neurosis, Jung saw the constructive method as complementary,
not in opposition, to the reductive approach of classical psychoanalysis.

We apply a largely reductive point of view in all cases where
it is a question of illusions, fictions, and exaggerated attitudes. On
the other hand, a constructive point of view must be considered for all
cases where the conscious attitude is more or less normal, but capable
of greater development and refinement, or where unconscious tendencies,
also capable of development, are being misunderstood and kept under by
the conscious mind.["Analytical Psychology and Education,"
CW 17, par. 195.]

Countertransference. A particular case of projection, used
to describe the unconscious emotional response of the analyst to the analysand
in a therapeutic relationship. (See also transference.)

A transference is answered by a counter-transference from the
analyst when it projects a content of which he is unconscious but which
nevertheless exists in him. The counter-transference is then just as useful
and meaningful, or as much of a hindrance, as the transference of the
patient, according to whether or not it seeks to establish that better
rapport which is essential for the realization of certain unconscious
contents. Like the transference, the counter-transference is compulsive,
a forcible tie, because it creates a "mystical" or unconscious identity
with the object[General Aspects of Dream Psychology," CW
8, par. 519.]

A workable analytic relationship is predicated on the assumption that the
analyst is not as neurotic as the analysand. Although a lengthy personal
analysis is the major requirement in the training of analysts, this is no
guarantee against projection.

Even if the analyst has no neurosis, but only a rather more
extensive area of unconsciousness than usual, this is sufficient to produce
a sphere of mutual unconsciousness, i.e., a counter-transference. This
phenomenon is one of the chief occupational hazards of psychotherapy.
It causes psychic infections in both analyst and patient and brings the
therapeutic process to a standstill. This state of unconscious identity
is also the reason why an analyst can help his patient just so far as
he himself has gone and not a step further.[Appendix," CW
16, par. 545.]

Crucifixion. An archetypal motif associated with conflict
and the problem of the opposites.

Nobody who finds himself on the road to wholeness can escape
that characteristic suspension which is the meaning of crucifixion. For
he will infallibly run into things that thwart and "cross" him: first,
the thing he has no wish to be (the shadow); second, the thing he is not
(the "other," the individual reality of the "You"); and third, his psychic
non-ego (the collective unconscious).[The Psychology of
the Transference," ibid., par. 470.]

Depotentiate. The process of removing energy from an unconscious
content by assimilating its meaning.

Depression. A psychological state characterized by lack of energy.
(See also abaissement du niveaumental, final, libido, night
sea journey and regression.) Energy not available to consciousness
does not simply vanish. It regresses and stirs up unconscious contents
(fantasies, memories, wishes, etc.) that for the sake of psychological
health need to be brought to light and examined.

Depression should therefore be regarded as an unconscious compensation
whose content must be made conscious if it is to be fully effective. This
can only be done by consciously regressing along with the depressive tendency
and integrating the memories so activated into the conscious mind-which
was what the depression was aiming at in the first place.["The
Sacrifice," CW 5, par. 625.]

Depression is not necessarily pathological. It often foreshadows a renewal
of the personality or a burst of creative activity.

There are moments in human life when a new page is turned. New
interests and tendencies appear which have hitherto received no attention,
or there is a sudden change of personality (a so-called mutation of character).
During the incubation period of such a change we can often observe a loss
of conscious energy: the new development has drawn off the energy it needs
from consciousness. This lowering of energy can be seen most clearly before
the onset of certain psychoses and also in the empty stillness which precedes
creative work.["The Psychology of the Transference," CW
16, par. 373.]

Differentiation. The separation of parts from a whole, necessary
for conscious access to the psychological functions.

So long as a function is still so fused with one or more other
functions-thinking with feeling, feeling with sensation, etc.-that it
is unable to operate on its own, it is in an archaic condition,
i.e., not differentiated, not separated from the whole as a special part
and existing by itself. Undifferentiated thinking is incapable of thinking
apart from other functions; it is continually mixed up with sensations,
feelings, intuitions, just as undifferentiated feeling is mixed up with
sensations and fantasies.["Definitions," CW 6, par. 705.]

An undifferentiated function is characterized by ambivalence (every position
entails its own negative), which leads to characteristic inhibitions in
its use.

Differentiation consists in the separation of the function from
other functions, and in the separation of its individual parts from each
other. Without differentiation direction is impossible, since the direction
of a function towards a goal depends on the elimination of anything irrelevant.
Fusion with the irrelevant precludes direction; only a differentiated
function is capable of being directed.[ Ibid., par.
705.]

Dissociation. The splitting of a personality into its component
parts or complexes, characteristic of neurosis.

A dissociation is not healed by being split off, but by more
complete disintegration. All the powers that strive for unity, all healthy
desire for selfhood, will resist the disintegration, and in this way he
will become conscious of the possibility of an inner integration, which
before he had always sought outside himself. He will then find his reward
in an undivided self.["Marriage as a Psychological Relationship,"
CW 17, pars. 334f.]

In the analysis of neurotic breakdowns, the aim is to make the conscious
ego aware of autonomous complexes. This can be done both through reductive
analysis and by objectifying them in the process of active imagination.

Every form of communication with the split-off part of the psyche
is therapeutically effective. This effect is also brought about by the
real or merely supposed discovery of the causes. Even when the discovery
is no more than an assumption or a fantasy, it has a healing effect at
least by suggestion if the analyst himself believes in it and makes a
serious attempt to understand.[The Philosophical Tree,"
CW 13, par. 465.]

Dreams. Independent, spontaneous manifestations of the unconscious;
fragments of involuntary psychic activity just conscious enough to be reproducible
in the waking state.

Dreams are neither deliberate nor arbitrary fabrications; they
are natural phenomena which are nothing other than what they pretend to
be. They do not deceive, they do not lie, they do not distort or disguise.
. . . They are invariably seeking to express something that the ego does
not know and does not understand.["Analytical Psychology
and Education," CW 17, par. 189.]

In symbolic form, dreams picture the current situation in the psyche from
the point of view of the unconscious.

Since the meaning of most dreams is not in accord with
the tendencies of the conscious mind but shows peculiar deviations, we
must assume that the unconscious, the matrix of dreams, has an independent
function. This is what I call the autonomy of the unconscious. The dream
not only fails to obey our will but very often stands in flagrant opposition
to our conscious intentions["On the Nature of Dreams," CW
8, par. 545.]

Jung acknowledged that in some cases dreams have a wish-fulfilling and sleep-preserving
function (Freud) or reveal an infantile striving for power (Adler), but
he focused on their symbolic content and their compensatory role in the
self-regulation of the psyche: they reveal aspects of oneself that are not
normally conscious, they disclose unconscious motivations operating in relationships
and present new points of view in conflict situations.

In this regard there are three possibilities. If the conscious
attitude to the life situation is in large degree one-sided, then the
dream takes the opposite side. If the conscious has a position fairly
near the "middle," the dream is satisfied with variations. If the conscious
attitude is "correct" (adequate), then the dream coincides with and emphasizes
this tendency, though without forfeiting its peculiar autonomy.[
Ibid., par. 546.]

In Jung's view, a dream is an interior drama.

The whole dream-work is essentially subjective, and a dream
is a theatre in which the dreamer is himself the scene, the player, the
prompter, the producer, the author, the public, and the critic.["General
Aspects of Dream Psychology," ibid., par. 509.]

This conception gives rise to the interpretation of dreams on the subjective
level, where the images in them are seen as symbolic representations of
elements in the dreamer's own personality. Interpretation on the objective
level refers the images to people and situations in the outside world.

Many dreams have a classic dramatic structure. There is an exposition
(place, time and characters), which shows the initial situation of the
dreamer. In the second phase there is a development in the plot
(action takes place). The third phase brings the culmination or climax
(a decisive event occurs). The final phase is the lysis, the result
or solution (if any) of the action in the dream.

Ego. The central complex in the field of consciousness. (See also
self.)

The ego, the subject of consciousness, comes into existence
as a complex quantity which is constituted partly by the inherited disposition
(character constituents) and partly by unconsciously acquired impressions
and their attendant phenomena ["Analytical Psychology and
Education," CW 17, par. 169.]

Jung pointed out that knowledge of the ego-personality is often confused
with self-understanding.

Anyone who has any ego-consciousness at all takes it for granted
that he knows himself. But the ego knows only its own contents, not the
unconscious and its contents. People measure their self-knowledge by what
the average person in their social environment knows of himself, but not
by the real psychic facts which are for the most part hidden from them.
In this respect the psyche behaves like the body, of whose physiological
and anatomical structure the average person knows very little too.
["The Undiscovered Self," CW 10, par. 491.]

In the process of individuation, one of the initial tasks is to differentiate
the ego from the complexes in the personal unconscious, particularly the
persona, the shadow and anima/animus. A strong ego can relate objectively
to these and other contents of the unconscious without identifying with
them.

Because the ego experiences itself as the center of the psyche, it is
especially difficult to resist identification with the self, to which
it owes its existence and to which, in the hierarchy of the psyche, it
is subordinate.

The ego stands to the self as the moved to the mover, or as
object to subject, because the determining factors which radiate out from
the self surround the ego on all sides and are therefore supraordinate
to it. The self, like the unconscious, is an a priori existent
out of which the ego evolves.["Transformation Symbolism
in the Mass," CW 11, par. 391.]

Identification with the self can manifest in two ways: the assimilation
of the ego by the self, in which case the ego falls under the control
of the unconscious; or the assimilation of the self to the ego, where
the ego becomes overaccentuated. In both cases the result is inflation,
with disturbances in adaptation.

In the first case, reality has to be protected against an archaic
. . . dream-state; in the second, room must be made for the dream at the
expense of the world of consciousness. In the first case, mobilization
of all the virtues is indicated; in the second, the presumption of the
ego can only be damped down by moral defeat.[The Self,"
CW 9ii, par. 47.]

Emotion. An involuntary reaction due to an active complex.
(See also affect.)

On the one hand, emotion is the alchemical fire whose warmth
brings everything into existence and whose heat burns all superfluities
to ashes (omnes superfluitates comburit). But on the other hand, emotion
is the moment when steel meets flint and a spark is struck forth, for
emotion is the chief source of consciousness. There is no change from
darkness to light or from inertia to movement without emotion. ["Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype," CW 9i, par. 179.]

Empathy. An introjection of the object, based on the unconscious
projection of subjective contents. (Compare identification.)

Empathy presupposes a subjective attitude of confidence, or
trustfulness towards the object. It is a readiness to meet the object
halfway, a subjective assimilation that brings about a good understanding
between subject and object, or at least simulates it. ["The
Type Problem in Aesthetics," CW 6, par. 489.]

In contrast to abstraction, associated with introversion, empathy corresponds
to the attitude of extraversion.

The man with the empathetic attitude finds himself . . . in
a world that needs his subjective feeling to give it life and soul. He
animates it with himself. [ Ibid., par. 492.]

Enantiodromia. Literally, "running counter to," referring to the
emergence of the unconscious opposite in the course of time.

This characteristic phenomenon practically always occurs when
an extreme, one-sided tendency dominates conscious life; in time an equally
powerful counterposition is built up, which first inhibits the conscious
performance and subsequently breaks through the conscious control. [Definitions,"
ibid., par. 709.]

Enantiodromia is typically experienced in conjunction with symptoms associated
with acute neurosis, and often foreshadows a rebirth of the personality.

The grand plan on which the unconscious life of the psyche is
constructed is so inaccessible to our understanding that we can never
know what evil may not be necessary in order to produce good by enantiodromia,
and what good may very possibly lead to evil.[The Phenomenology
of the Spirit in Fairytales," CW 9i, par. 397.]

Energic. See final.

Eros. In Greek mythology, the personification of love, a cosmogonic
force of nature; psychologically, the function of relationship. (See also
anima, animus, Logos and mother complex.)

Woman's consciousness is characterized more by the connective
quality of Eros than by the discrimination and cognition associated with
Logos. In men, Eros . . . is usually less developed than Logos. In women,
on the other hand, Eros is an expression of their true nature, while their
Logos is often only a regrettable accident. [The Syzygy:
Anima and Animus," CW 9ii, par. 29.]

Eros is a questionable fellow and will always remain so . . . . He
belongs on one side to man's primordial animal nature which will endure
as long as man has an animal body. On the other side he is related to
the highest forms of the spirit. But he thrives only when spirit and
instinct are in right harmony.[The Eros Theory," CW 7,
par. 32.]

Where love reigns, there is no will to power; and where the will to
power is paramount, love is lacking. The one is but the shadow of the
other: the man who adopts the standpoint of Eros finds his compensatory
opposite in the will to power, and that of the man who puts the accent
on power is Eros.[The Problem of the Attitude-Type," ibid.,
par. 78.]

An unconscious Eros always expresses itself as will to power. ["Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype," CW 9i, par. 167.]

Extraversion. A mode of psychological orientation where the
movement of energy is toward the outer world. (Compare introversion.)

Extraversion is characterized by interest in the external object,
responsiveness, and a ready acceptance of external happenings, a desire
to influence and be influenced by events, a need to join in and get "with
it," the capacity to endure bustle and noise of every kind, and actually
find them enjoyable, constant attention to the surrounding world, the
cultivation of friends and acquaintances, none too carefully selected,
and finally by the great importance attached to the figure one cuts.["Psychological
Typology," CW 6, par. 972.]

Jung believed that introversion and extraversion were present in everyone,
but that one attitude-type is invariably dominant. When external factors
are the prime motivating force for judgments, perceptions, affects and actions,
we have an extraverted attitude or type.

The extravert's philosophy of life and his ethics are as a rule
of a highly collective nature with a strong streak of altruism, and his
conscience is in large measure dependent on public opinion.[
Ibid.]

Jung believed that type differentiation begins very early in life, so that
it might be described as innate.

The earliest sign of extraversion in a child is his quick adaptation
to the environment, and the extraordinary attention he gives to objects
and especially to the effect he has on them. Fear of objects is minimal;
he lives and moves among them with confidence. . . and can therefore play
with them freely and learn through them. He likes to carry his enterprises
to the extreme and exposes himself to risks. Everything unknown is alluring.[Psychological
Types," ibid., par. 896.]

In general, the extravert trusts what is received from the outside world
and is not inclined to examine personal motivations.

He has no secrets he has not long since shared with others.
Should something unmentionable nevertheless befall him, he prefers to
forget it. Anything that might tarnish the parade of optimism and positivism
is avoided. Whatever he thinks, intends, and does is displayed with conviction
and warmth.["Psychological Typology," ibid., par. 973.]

Although everyone is affected by objective data, the extravert's thoughts,
decisions and behavior are determined by them. Personal views and the inner
life take second place to outer conditions.

He lives in and through others; all self-communings give him
the creeps. Dangers lurk there which are better drowned out by noise.
If he should ever have a "complex," he finds refuge in the social whirl
and allows himself to be assured several times a day that everything is
in order. [ Ibid., par. 974.]

The psychic life of the extreme extraverted type is enacted wholly in reaction
to the environment, which determines the personal standpoint. If the mores
change, he adjusts his views and behavior patterns to match. This is both
a strength and a limitation.

Adjustment is not adaptation; adaptation . . . requires observance
of laws more universal than the immediate conditions of time and place.
The very adjustment of the normal extraverted type is his limitation.
He owes his normality . . . to his ability to fit into existing conditions
with comparative ease. His requirements are limited to the objectively
possible, for instance to the career that holds out good prospects at
this particular moment; he does what is needed of him, or what is expected
of him, and refrains from all innovations that are not entirely self-evident
or that in any way exceed the expectations of those around him["General
Description of the Types," CW 6, par. 564.]

Extraversion is an asset in social situations and in relating to the external
environment. But a too-extraverted attitude may result in sacrificing oneself
in order to fulfil what one sees as objective demands-the needs of others,
for instance, or the requirements of an expanding business.

This is the extravert's danger: He gets sucked into objects
and completely loses himself in them. The resultant functional disorders,
nervous or physical, have a compensatory value, as they force him into
an involuntary self-restraint. Should the symptoms be functional, their
peculiar character may express his psychological situation in symbolic
form; for instance, a singer whose fame has risen to dangerous heights
that tempt him to expend too much energy suddenly finds he cannot sing
high notes . . . . Or a man of modest beginnings who rapidly reaches a
social position of great influence with wide prospects is suddenly afflicted
with all the symptoms of mountain sickness.[ Ibid., par.
565.]

The form of neurosis most likely to afflict the extravert is hysteria, which
typically manifests as a pronounced identification with persons in the immediate
environment.

The extravert's tendency to sacrifice inner reality to outer circumstances
is not a problem as long as the extraversion is not too extreme. But to
the extent that it becomes necessary to compensate the inclination to
one-sidedness, there will arise a markedly self-centered tendency in the
unconscious. All those needs or desires that are stifled or repressed
by the conscious attitude come in the back door, in the form of infantile
thoughts and emotions that center on oneself.

The more complete the conscious attitude of extraversion is,
the more infantile and archaic the unconscious attitude will be. The egoism
which characterizes the extravert's unconscious attitude goes far beyond
mere childish selfishness; it verges on the ruthless and brutal. [
Ibid., par. 572.]

The danger then is that the extravert, so habitually and apparently selflessly
attuned to the outside world and the needs of others, may suddenly become
quite indifferent.

Fantasy. A complex of ideas or imaginative activity expressing
the flow of psychic energy. (See also active imagination.)

A fantasy needs to be understood both causally and purposively.
Causally interpreted, it seems like a symptom of a physiological
state, the outcome of antecedent events. Purposively interpreted, it seems
like a symbol, seeking to characterize a definite goal with the help of
the material at hand, or trace out a line of future psychological development.
["Definitions," CW 6, par. 720.]

Jung distinguished between active and passive fantasies. The
for-mer, characteristic of the creative mentality, are evoked by an intuitive
attitude directed toward the perception of unconscious contents; passive
fantasies are spontaneous and autonomous manifestations of unconscious complexes.

Passive fantasy, therefore, is always in need of conscious criticism,
lest it merely reinforce the standpoint of the unconscious opposite. Whereas
active fantasy, as the product of a conscious attitude not opposed to
the unconscious, and of unconscious processes not opposed but merely compensatory
to consciousness, does not require criticism so much as understanding.[Ibid.,
par. 714.]

Jung developed the method of active imagination as a way of assimilating
the meaning of fantasies. The important thing is not to interpret but to
experience them.

Continual conscious realization of unconscious fantasies, together
with active participation in the fantastic events, has . . . the effect
firstly of extending the conscious horizon by the inclusion of numerous
unconscious contents; secondly of gradually diminishing the dominant influence
of the unconscious; and thirdly of bringing about a change of personality.
[The Technique of Differentiation," CW 7, par. 358.]

Father complex. A group of feeling-toned ideas associated with the
experience and image of father. (See also Logos.)

In men, a positive father-complex very often produces a certain
credulity with regard to authority and a distinct willingness to bow down
before all spiritual dogmas and values; while in women, it induces the
liveliest spiritual aspirations and interests. In dreams, it is always
the father-figure from whom the decisive convictions, prohibitions, and
wise counsels emanate. [The Phenomenology of the Spirit
in Fairytales," CW 9i, par. 396.]

Jung's comments on the father complex were rarely more than asides in writing
about something else. In general, the father complex in a man manifests
in the persona (through identification) and as aspects of his shadow; in
a woman, it manifests in the nature of the animus, colored by the projection
of her father's anima.

The father exerts his influence on the mind or spirit of his
daughter-on her "Logos." This he does by increasing her intellectuality,
often to a pathological degree which in my later writings I have described
as "animus possession."[The Origin of the Hero," CW 5, par.
272.]

The father is the first carrier of the animus-image. He endows this
virtual image with substance and form, for on account of his Logos he
is the source of "spirit" for the daughter. Unfortunately this source
is often sullied just where we would expect clean water. For the spirit
that benefits a woman is not mere intellect, it is far more: it is an
attitude, the spirit by which a man lives. Even a so-called "ideal"
spirit is not always the best if it does not understand how to deal
adequately with nature, that is, with animal man. . . . Hence every
father is given the opportunity to corrupt, in one way or another, his
daughter's nature, and the educator, husband, or psychiatrist then has
to face the music. For "what has been spoiled by the father"[ A reference
to Hexagram 18 in the I Ching (Richard Wilhelm edition, p. 80): "Work
ok on What Has Been Spoiled."] can only be made good by a father.[The
Personification of the Opposites," CW 14, par. 232.]

Feeling. The psychological function that evaluates or judges
what something or someone is worth. (Compare thinking.)

A feeling is as indisputable a reality as the existence of an
idea. [The Psychology of the Transference," CW 16, par.
531.]

The feeling function is the basis for "fight or flight" decisions. As a
subjective process, it may be quite independent of external stimuli. In
Jung's view it is a rational function, like thinking, in that it is decisively
influenced not by perception (as are the functions of sensation and intuition)
but by reflection. A person whose overall attitude is oriented by the feeling
function is called a feeling type.

In everyday usage, feeling is often confused with emotion. The latter,
more appropriately called affect, is the result of an activated complex.
Feeling not contaminated by affect can be quite cold.

Feeling is distinguished from affect by the fact that it produces
no perceptible physical innervations, i.e., neither more nor less than
an ordinary thinking process. [Definitions," CW 6, par.
725.]

Feminine. See anima, Eros and Logos.

Final. A point of view based on the potential result or purpose
of psychic activity, complementary to a causal approach. (See also constructive,
neurosis, reductive, and self-regulation of the psyche.)

Psychological data necessitate a twofold point of view, namely that of
causality and that of finality. I use the word finality
intentionally, in order to avoid confusion with the concept of teleology.
[Teleology implies the anticipation of a particular end or goal; finality
assumes purpose but an essentially unknown goal.] By finality I mean
merely the immanent psychological striving for a goal. Instead of "striving
for a goal" one could also say "sense of purpose." All psychological phenomena
have some such sense of purpose inherent in them, even merely reactive
phenomena like emotional reactions.[ "General Aspects of
Dream Psychology," CW 8, par. 456.]

Jung also called the final point of view energic, contrasting it with
mechanistic or reductive.

The mechanistic view is purely causal; it conceives an event
as the effect of a cause, in the sense that unchanging substances change
their relations to one another according to fixed laws. The energic point
of view on the other hand is in essence final; the event is traced back
from effect to cause on the assumption that some kind of energy underlies
the changes in phenomena, that it maintains itself as a constant throughout
these changes and finally leads to entropy, a condition of general equilibrium.
The flow of energy has a definite direction (goal) in that it follows
the gradient of potential in a way that cannot be reversed.[On
Psychic Energy," ibid., pars. 2f.]

Jung believed that laws governing the physical conservation of energy applied
equally to the psyche. Psychologically, this means that where there is an
overabundance of energy in one place, some other psychic function has been
deprived; conversely, when libido "disap-pears," as it seems to do in a
depression, it must appear in another form, for instance as a symptom.

Every time we come across a person who has a "bee in his bonnet,"
or a morbid conviction, or some extreme attitude, we know that there is
too much libido, and that the excess must have been taken from somewhere
else where, consequently, there is too little. . . . Thus the symptoms
of a neurosis must be regarded as exaggerated functions over-invested
with libido. . . .The question has to be reversed in the case of those
syndromes characterized mainly by lack of libido, for instance apathetic
states. Here we have to ask, where did the libido go? . . . The libido
is there, but it is not visible and is inaccessible to the patient himself.
. . . It is the task of psychoanalysis to search out that hidden place
where the libido dwells.[The Theory of Psychoanalysis,"
CW 4, pars. 254f]

The energic or final point of view, coupled with the concept of compensation,
led Jung to believe that an outbreak of neurosis is essentially an attempt
by the psyche to cure itself.

Fourth function. See inferior function.

Function. A form of psychic activity, or manifestation of libido,
that remains the same in principle under varying conditions. (See also
auxiliary function, differentiation, inferior function, primary function
and typology.)

Sensation establishes what is actually present, thinking enables
us to recognize its meaning, feeling tells us its value, and intuition
points to possibilities as to whence it came and whither it is going in
a given situation.["A Psychological Theory of Types," CW
6, par. 958.]

Though all the functions exist in every psyche, one function is invariably
more consciously developed than the others, giving rise to a one-sidedness
that often leads to neurosis.

The more [a man] identifies with one function, the more he invests
it with libido, and the more he withdraws libido from the other functions.
They can tolerate being deprived of libido for even quite long periods,
but in the end they will react. Being drained of libido, they gradually
sink below the threshold of consciousness, lose their associative connection
with it, and finally lapse into the unconscious. This is a regressive
development, a reversion to the infantile and finally to the archaic level.
. . . [which] brings about a dissociation of the personality.[The
Type Problem in Aesthetics," ibid., pars. 502f.]

Hero. An archetypal motif based on overcoming obstacles and achieving
certain goals.

The hero's main feat is to overcome the monster of darkness:
it is the long-hoped-for and expected triumph of consciousness over the
unconscious.[The Psychology of the Child Archetype," CW
9i, par. 284.]

The hero myth is an unconscious drama seen only in projection, like
the happenings in Plato's parable of the cave.[The Dual
Mother," CW 5, par. 612.]

The hero symbolizes a man's unconscious self, and this manifests itself
empirically as the sum total of all archetypes and therefore includes
the archetype of the father and of the wise old man. To that extent
the hero is his own father and his own begetter [Ibid.,
par. 516.]

Mythologically, the hero's goal is to find the treasure, the princess, the
ring, the golden egg, elixir of life, etc. Psychologically these are metaphors
for one's true feelings and unique potential. In the process of individuation,
the heroic task is to assimilate unconscious contents as opposed to being
overwhelmed by them. The potential result is the release of energy that
has been tied up with unconscious complexes.

In myths the hero is the one who conquers the dragon, not the
one who is devoured by it. And yet both have to deal with the same dragon.
Also, he is no hero who never met the dragon, or who, if he once saw it,
declared afterwards that he saw nothing. Equally, only one who has risked
the fight with the dragon and is not overcome by it wins the hoard, the
"treasure hard to attain." He alone has a genuine claim to self-confidence,
for he has faced the dark ground of his self and thereby has gained himself.
. . . He has acquired the right to believe that he will be able to overcome
all future threats by the same means.["The Conjunction,"
CW 14, par. 756.]

The hero's journey is a round as illustrated in the diagram. [Adapted
from Joseph Campbell, Hero with a Thousand Faces, Bollingen Series
XVII (Princeton University press, 1949), p. 245.]

In myth and legend, the hero typically travels by ship, fights a sea
monster, is swallowed, struggles against being bitten or crushed to death,
and having arrived inside the belly of the whale, like Jonah, seeks the
vital organ and cuts it off, thereby winning release. Eventually he must
return to his beginnings and bear witness.

In terms of a man's individuation, the whale-dragon is the mother or
the mother-bound anima. The vital organ that must be severed is the umbilical
cord.

The hero is the ideal masculine type: leaving the mother, the
source of life, behind him, he is driven by an unconscious desire to find
her again, to return to her womb. Every obstacle that rises in his path
and hampers his ascent wears the shadowy features of the Terrible Mother,
who saps his strength with the poison of secret doubt and retrospective
longing.["The Dual Mother," CW 5, par. 611.]

In a woman's psychology, the hero's journey is lived out through the worldly
exploits of the animus, or else in a male partner, through projection.

Homosexuality. Usually characterized psychologically by identification
with the anima. (See also mother complex.) Jung acknowledged
the potential neurotic effects of homosexuality, but he did not see it
as an illness in itself.

In view of the recognized frequency of this phenomenon, its
interpretation as a pathological perversion is very dubious. The psychological
findings show that it is rather a matter of incomplete detachment from
the hermaphroditic archetype, coupled with a distinct resistance to identify
with the role of a one-sided sexual being. Such a disposition should not
be adjudged negative in all circumstances, in so far as it preserves the
archetype of the Original Man, which a one-sided sexual being has, up
to a point, lost.["Concerning the Archetypes and the Anima
Concept," CW 9i, par. 146.]

Hostile brothers. An archetypal motif associated with the opposites
constellated in a conflict situation. Examples of the hostile brothers
motif in mythology are the struggle between Gilgamesh and Enkidu in The
Gilgamesh Epic, and the Biblical story of Cain and Abel. Psychologically,
it is generally interpreted in terms of the tug of war between ego and shadow.

Hysteria. A state of mind marked by an exaggerated rapport with
persons in the immediate environment and an adjustment to surrounding
conditions that amounts to imitation.

Hysteria is, in my view, by far the most frequent neurosis of
the extraverted type. . . . A constant tendency to make himself interesting
and produce an impression is a basic feature of the hysteric. The corollary
of this is his proverbial suggestibility, his proneness to another person's
influence. Another unmistakable sign of the extraverted hysteric is his
effusiveness, which occasionally carries him into the realm of fantasy,
so that he is accused of the "hysterical lie."["General
Description of the Types," CW 6, par. 566.]

Hysterical neurosis is usually accompanied by compensatory reactions from
the unconscious.

[These] counteract the exaggerated extraversion by means of
physical symptoms that force the libido to introvert. The reaction of
the unconscious produces another class of symptoms having a more introverted
character, one of the most typical being a morbid intensification of fantasy
activity.[ Ibid., par. 566.]

Identification. A psychological process in which the personality
is partially or totally dissimilated. (See also participation mystique
and projection.)

Identity, denoting an unconscious conformity between subject and object,
oneself and others, is the basis for identification, projection and introjection.

Identity is responsible for the naïve assumption that the
psychology of one man is like that of another, that the same motives occur
everywhere, that what is agreeable to me must obviously be pleasurable
for others, that what I find immoral must also be immoral for them, and
so on. It is also responsible for the almost universal desire to correct
in others what most needs correcting in oneself.["Definitions,"
ibid., par. 742.]

Identification facilitates early adaptation to the outside world, but in
later life becomes a hindrance to individual development.

For example, identification with the father means, in practice,
adopting all the father's ways of behaving, as though the son were the
same as the father and not a separate individuality. Identification differs
from imitation in that it is an unconscious imitation, whereas imitation
is a conscious copying. . . . Identification can be beneficial so long
as the individual cannot go his own way. But when a better possibility
presents itself, identification shows its morbid character by becoming
just as great a hindrance as it was an unconscious help and support before.
It now has a dissociative effect, splitting the individual into two mutually
estranged personalities.[ Ibid., par. 738.]

Identification with a complex (experienced as possession) is a frequent
source of neurosis, but it is also possible to identify with a particular
idea or belief.

The ego keeps its integrity only if it does not identify with
one of the opposites, and if it understands how to hold the balance between
them. This is possible only if it remains conscious of both at once. However,
the necessary insight is made exceedingly difficult not by one's social
and political leaders alone, but also by one's religious mentors. They
all want decision in favour of one thing, and therefore the utter identification
of the individual with a necessarily one-sided "truth." Even if it were
a question of some great truth, identification with it would still be
a catastrophe, as it arrests all further spiritual development.[On
the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 425.]

One-sidedness is usually due to identifying with a particular conscious
attitude. This can result in losing touch with the compensating powers of
the unconscious.

In a case like this the unconscious usually responds with violent
emotions, irritability, lack of control, arrogance, feelings of inferiority,
moods, depressions, outbursts of rage, etc., coupled with lack of self-criticism
and the misjudgments, mistakes, and delusions which this entails.["The
Philosophical Tree," CW 13, par. 454.]

Image, primordial. See archetype and archetypal
image.

Imago. A term used to differentiate the objective reality of a
person or a thing from the subjective perception of its importance.

The image we form of a human object is, to a very large extent,
subjectively conditioned. In practical psychology, therefore, we would
do well to make a rigorous distinction between the image or imago
of a man and his real existence. Because of its extremely subjective origin,
the imago is frequently more an image of a subjective functional
complex than of the object itself. In the analytical treatment of unconscious
products it is essential that the imago should not be assumed to
be identical with the object; it is better to regard it as an image of
the subjective relation to the object. ["Definitions," CW
6, par. 812.]

Imagos are the consequence of personal experience combined with archetypal
images in the collective unconscious. Like everything else unconscious,
they are experienced in projection.

The more limited a man's field of consciousness is, the more
numerous the psychic contents (imagos) which meet him as quasi-external
apparitions, either in the form of spirits, or as magical potencies projected
upon living people (magicians, witches, etc.)["The Function
of the Unconscious," CW 7, par. 295.]

Incest. Psychologically, the regressive longing for the security
of childhood and early youth.
Jung interpreted incest images in dreams and fantasies not concretely but
symbolically, as indicating the need for a new adaptation more in accord
with the instincts. (This differed so radically from the psychoanalytic
view that it led to his break with Freud.)

So long as the child is in that state of unconscious identity
with the mother, he is still one with the animal psyche and is just as
unconscious as it. The development of consciousness inevitably leads not
only to separation from the mother, but to separation from the parents
and the whole family circle and thus to a relative degree of detachment
from the unconscious and the world of instinct. Yet the longing for this
lost world continues and, when difficult adaptations are demanded, is
forever tempting one to make evasions and retreats, to regress to the
infantile past, which then starts throwing up the incestuous symbolism.
[Symbols of the Mother and of Rebirth," CW 5, par. 351.]

Whenever [the] drive for wholeness appears, it begins by disguising
itself under the symbolism of incest, for, unless he seeks it in himself,
a man's nearest feminine counterpart is to be found in his mother, sister,
or daughter. ["The Psychology of the Transference," CW
16, par. 471.]

Individual. Unique and unlike anyone else, distinguished from what
is collective. (See also individuality.)

A distinction must be made between individuality and the individual.
The individual is determined on the one hand by the principle of uniqueness
and distinctiveness, and on the other by the society to which he belongs.
He is an indispensable link in the social structure. [The
Structure of the Unconscious," CW 7, par. 519.]

The individual is precisely that which can never be merged with the
collective and is never identical with it.[ Ibid., par.
485.]

The larger a community is, and the more the sum total of collective
factors peculiar to every large community rests on conservative prejudices
detrimental to individuality, the more will the individual be morally
and spiritually crushed, and, as a result, the one source of moral and
spiritual progress for society is choked up.[The Assimilation
of the Unconscious," ibid., par. 240.]

The individual standpoint is not antagonistic to collective norms, only
differently oriented.

The individual way can never be directly opposed to the collective
norm, because the opposite of the collective norm could only be another,
but contrary, norm. But the individual way can, by definition, never be
a norm. [Definitions," CW 6, par. 761.]

Jung believed that the survival of the individual within a group depended
not only on psychological self-understanding, but also on the personal experience
of a higher truth.

The individual will never find the real justification for his
existence and his own spiritual and moral autonomy anywhere except in
an extramundane principle capable of relativizing the overpowering influence
of external factors. . . . For this he needs the evidence of inner, transcendent
experience which alone can protect him from the otherwise inevitable submersion
in the mass.[The Undiscovered Self," CW 10, par. 511.]

Resistance to the organized mass can be effected only by the man
who is as well organized in his individuality as the mass itself. [Ibid.,
par. 540 (italics in original).]

Individualism. A belief in the supremacy of individual interests
over those of the collective, not to be confused with individuality
or individuation.

Individualism means deliberately stressing and giving prominence
to some supposed peculiarity rather than to collective considerations
and obligations. But individuation means precisely the better and more
complete fulfilment of the collective qualities of the human being, since
adequate consideration of the peculiarity of the individual is more conducive
to a better social performance than when the peculiarity is neglected
or suppressed.
. . . . Since the universal factors always appear only in individual form,
a full consideration of them will also produce an individual effect, and
one which cannot be surpassed by anything else, least of all by individualism.["The
Function of the Unconscious," CW 7, pars. 267f.]

Individuality. The qualities or characteristics that distinguish
one person from another. (See also personality.)

By individuality I mean the peculiarity and singularity of the
individual in every psychological respect. Everything that is not collective
is individual, everything in fact that pertains only to one individual
and not to a larger group of individuals.["Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 756.]

The psychological individual, or his individuality, has an a priori
unconscious existence, but exists consciously only so far as a consciousness
of his peculiar nature is present . . . . A conscious process of differentiation,
or individuation, is needed to bring the individuality to consciousness,
i.e., to raise it out of the state of identity with the object.[
Ibid., par. 755.]

In the undifferentiated psyche, individuality is subjectively identified
with the persona but is actually possessed by an inner, unrecognized aspect
of oneself. In such cases, one's individuality is commonly experienced in
another person, through projection. If and when this situation becomes intolerable
to the psyche, appropriate images appear in an attempt at compensation.

This . . . frequently gives rise in dreams to the symbol of
psychic pregnancy, a symbol that goes back to the primordial image of
the hero's birth. The child that is to be born signifies the individuality,
which, though present, is not yet conscious.[Ibid., par.
806.]

Individuation. A process of psychological differentiation,
having for its goal the development of the individual personality.

In general, it is the process by which individual beings are
formed and differentiated; in particular, it is the development of the
psychological individual as a being distinct from the general, collective
psychology.[ Ibid., par. 757.]

The aim of individuation is nothing less than to divest the self of
the false wrappings of the persona on the one hand, and of the suggestive
power of primordial images on the other.["The Function
of the Unconscious," CW 7, par. 269. ]

Individuation is a process informed by the archetypal ideal of wholeness,
which in turn depends on a vital relationship between ego and unconscious.
The aim is not to overcome one's personal psychology, to become perfect,
but to become familiar with it. Thus individuation involves an increasing
awareness of one's unique psychological reality, including personal strengths
and limitations, and at the same time a deeper appreciation of humanity
in general.

As the individual is not just a single, separate being, but
by his very existence presupposes a collective relationship, it follows
that the process of individuation must lead to more intense and broader
collective relationships and not to isolation.[Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 758.]

Individuation does not shut one out from the world, but gathers the
world to itself.["On the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8,
par. 432.]

Individuation has two principle aspects: in the first place it is an
internal and subjective process of integration, and in the second it
is an equally indispensable process of objective relationship. Neither
can exist without the other, although sometimes the one and sometimes
the other predominates.[The Psychology of the Transference,"
CW 16, par. 448.]

Individuation and a life lived by collective values are nevertheless two
divergent destinies. In Jung's view they are related to one another by guilt.
Whoever embarks on the personal path becomes to some extent estranged from
collective values, but does not thereby lose those aspects of the psyche
which are inherently collective. To atone for this "desertion," the individual
is obliged to create something of worth for the benefit of society.

Individuation cuts one off from personal conformity and hence
from collectivity. That is the guilt which the individuant leaves behind
him for the world, that is the guilt he must endeavor to redeem. He must
offer a ransom in place of himself, that is, he must bring forth values
which are an equivalent substitute for his absence in the collective personal
sphere. Without this production of values, final individuation is immoral
and-more than that-suicidal. . . .
The individuant has no a priori claim to any kind of esteem. He
has to be content with whatever esteem flows to him from outside by virtue
of the values he creates. Not only has society a right, it also has a
duty to condemn the individuant if he fails to create equivalent values.["Adaptation,
Individuation, Collectivity," CW 18, pars. 1095f.]

Individuation differs from individualism in that the former deviates from
collective norms but retains respect for them, while the latter eschews
them entirely.

A real conflict with the collective norm arises only when an
individual way is raised to a norm, which is the actual aim of extreme
individualism. Naturally this aim is pathological and inimical to life.
It has, accordingly, nothing to do with individuation, which, though it
may strike out on an individual bypath, precisely on that account needs
the norm for its orientation to society and for the vitally necessary
relationship of the individual to society. Individuation, therefore, leads
to a natural esteem for the collective norm. [Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 761.]

The process of individuation, consciously pursued, leads to the realization
of the self as a psychic reality greater than the ego. Thus individuation
is essentially different from the process of simply becoming conscious.

The goal of the individuation process is the synthesis of the
self. [The Psychology of the Child Archetype," CW 9i, par.
278.]

Again and again I note that the individuation process is confused with
the coming of the ego into consciousness and that the ego is in consequence
identified with the self, which naturally produces a hopeless conceptual
muddle. Individuation is then nothing but ego-centredness and autoeroticism.
But the self comprises infinitely more than a mere ego, as the symbolism
has shown from of old. It is as much one's self, and all other selves,
as the ego.[On the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 432.]

In Jung's view, no one is ever completely individuated. While the goal is
wholeness and a healthy working relationship with the self, the true value
of individuation lies in what happens along the way.

The goal is important only as an idea; the essential thing is
the opus which leads to the goal: that is the goal of a lifetime.["The
Psychology of the Transference," CW 16, par. 400.]

Inferior function. The least differentiated of the four psychological
functions. (Compare primary function.)

The inferior function is practically identical with the dark
side of the human personality.["Concerning Rebirth," CW
9i, par. 222.]

In Jung's model of typology, the inferior or fourth function is opposite
to the superior or primary function. Whether it operates in an introverted
or extraverted way, it behaves like an autonomous complex; its activation
is marked by affect and it resists integration.

The inferior function secretly and mischievously influences
the superior function most of all, just as the latter represses the former
most strongly.["The Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales,"
ibid., par. 431.]

Positive as well as negative occurrences can constellate the inferior
counter-function. When this happens, sensitiveness appears. Sensi-tiveness
is a sure sign of of the presence of inferiority. This provides the
psychological basis for discord and misunderstanding, not only as between
two people, but also in ourselves. The essence of the inferior function
is autonomy: it is independent, it attacks, it fascinates and so spins
us about that we are no longer masters of ourselves and can no longer
rightly distinguish between ourselves and others["The
Problem of the Attitude-Type," CW 7, par. 85.]

The inferior function is always of the same nature, rational or irrational,
as the primary function: when thinking is most developed, the other rational
function, feeling, is inferior; if sensation is dominant, then intuition,
the other irrational function, is the fourth function, and so on. This accords
with general experience: the thinker is tripped up by feeling values; the
practical sensation type gets into a rut, blind to the possibilities seen
by intuition; the feeling type is deaf to logical thinking; and the intuitive,
at home in the inner world, runs afoul of concrete reality.

One may be aware of the perceptions or judgments associated with the
inferior function, but these are generally over-ridden by the superior
function. Thinking types, for example, do not give their feelings much
weight. Sensation types have intuitions, but they are not motivated by
them. Similarly, feeling types brush away disturbing thoughts and intuitives
ignore what is right in front of them.

Although the inferior function may be conscious as a phenomenon
its true significance nevertheless remains unrecognized. It behaves like
many repressed or insufficiently appreciated contents, which are partly
conscious and partly unconscious . . . . Thus in normal cases the inferior
function remains conscious, at least in its effects; but in a neurosis
it sinks wholly or in part into the unconscious. ["Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 764.]

To the extent that a person functions too one-sidedly, the inferior function
becomes correspondingly primitive and troublesome. The overly dominant primary
function takes energy away from the inferior function, which falls into
the unconscious. There it is prone to be activated in an unnatural way,
giving rise to infantile desires and other symptoms of imbalance. This is
the situation in neurosis.

In order to extricate the inferior function from the unconscious
by analysis, the unconscious fantasy formations that have now been activated
must be brought to the surface. The conscious realization of these fantasies
brings the inferior function to consciousness and makes further development
possible.[Ibid., par. 764.]

When it becomes desirable or necessary to develop the inferior function,
this can only happen gradually.

I have frequently observed how an analyst, confronted with a
terrific thinking type, for instance, will do his utmost to develop the
feeling function directly out of the unconscious. Such an attempt is foredoomed
to failure, because it involves too great a violation of the conscious
standpoint. Should the violation nevertheless be successful, a really
compulsive dependence of the patient on the analyst ensues, a transference
that can only be brutally terminated, because, having been left without
a standpoint, the patient has made his standpoint the analyst. . . . [Therefore]
in order to cushion the impact of the unconscious, an irrational type
needs a stronger development of the rational auxiliary function present
in consciousness [and vice versa].["General Description
of the Types," ibid., par. 670.]

Attempts to assimilate the inferior function are usually accompanied by
a deterioration in the primary function. The thinking type can't write an
essay, the sensation type gets lost and forgets appointments, the intuitive
loses touch with possibilities, and the feeling type can't decide what something's
worth.

And yet it is necessary for the development of character that
we should allow the other side, the inferior function, to find expression.
We cannot in the long run allow one part of our personality to be cared
for symbiotically by another; for the moment when we might have need of
the other function may come at any time and find us unprepared. ["The
Problem of the Attitude-Type," CW 7, par. 86.]

Inflation. A state of mind characterized by an exaggerated sense
of self-importance, often compensated by feelings of inferiority. (See also
mana-personality and negative inflation.)
Inflation, whether positive or negative, is a symptom of psychological possession,
indicating the need to assimilate unconscious complexes or disidentify from
the self.

An inflated consciousness is always egocentric and conscious
of nothing but its own existence. It is incapable of learning from the
past, incapable of understanding contemporary events, and incapable of
drawing right conclusions about the future. It is hypnotized by itself
and therefore cannot be argued with. It inevitably dooms itself to calamities
that must strike it dead. Paradoxically enough, inflation is a regression
of consciousness into unconsciousness. This always happens when consciousness
takes too many unconscious contents upon itself and loses the faculty
of discrimination, the sine qua non of all consciousness.["Epilogue,"
CW 12, par. 563.]

[Inflation] should not be interpreted as . . . conscious self-aggrandizement.
Such is far from being the rule. In general we are not directly conscious
of this condition at all, but can at best infer its existence indirectly
from the symptoms. These include the reactions of our immediate environment.
Inflation magnifies the blind spot in the eye.[The Self,"
CW 9ii, par. 44.]

All psychic processes whose energies are not under conscious
control are instinctive.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 765.]

Instincts in their original strength can render social adaptation almost
impossible.["The Transcendent Function," CW 8, par. 161.]

Instinct is not an isolated thing, nor can it be isolated in practice.
It always brings in its train archetypal contents of a spiritual nature,
which are at once its foundation and its limitation. In other words,
an instinct is always and inevitably coupled with something like a philosophy
of life, however archaic, unclear, and hazy this may be. Instinct stimulates
thought, and if a man does not think of his own free will, then you
get compulsive thinking, for the two poles of the psyche, the physiological
and the mental, are indissolubly connected. ["Psychotherapy
and a Philosophy of Life," CW 16, par. 185.]

Psychic processes which ordinarily are consciously controlled can become
instinctive when imbued with unconscious energy. This is liable to occur
when the level of consciousness is low, due to fatigue, intoxication, depression,
etc. Conversely, instincts can be modified according to the extent that
they are civilized and under con-scious control, a process Jung called psychization.

An instinct which has undergone too much psychization can take
its revenge in the form of an autonomous complex. This is one of the chief
causes of neurosis.["Psychological Factors in Human Behaviour,"
CW 8, par. 255.]

Jung identified five prominent groups of instinctive factors: creativity,
reflection, activity, sexuality and hunger. Hunger is a primary instinct
of self-preservation, perhaps the most fundamental of all drives. Sexuality
is a close second, particularly prone to psychization, which makes it possible
to divert its purely biological energy into other channels. The urge to
activity manifests in travel, love of change, restlessness and play.
Under reflection, Jung included the religious urge and the search
for meaning. Creativity was for Jung in a class by itself. His descriptions
of it refer specifically to the impulse to create art.

Though we cannot classify it with a high degree of accuracy,
the creative instinct is something that deserves special mention.
I do not know if "instinct" is the correct word. We use the term "creative
instinct" because this factor behaves at least dynamically, like an instinct.
Like instinct it is compulsive, but it is not common, and it is not a
fixed and invariably inherited organization. Therefore I prefer to designate
the creative impulse as a psychic factor similar in nature to instinct,
having indeed a very close connection with the instincts, but without
being identical with any one of them. Its connections with sexuality are
a much discussed problem and, furthermore, it has much in common with
the drive to activity and the reflective instinct. But it can also suppress
them, or make them serve it to the point of the self-destruction of the
individual. Creation is as much destruction as construction.["Psychological
Factors in Human Behaviour," CW 8, par. 245.]

Jung also believed that true creativity could only be enhanced by the analytic
process.

Creative power is mightier than its possessor. If it is not
so, then it is a feeble thing, and given favourable conditions will nourish
an endearing talent, but no more. If, on the other hand, it is a neurosis,
it often takes only a word or a look for the illusion to go up in smoke.
. . . Disease has never yet fostered creative work; on the contrary, it
is the most formidable obstacle to creation. No breaking down of repressions
can ever destroy true creativeness, just as no analysis can ever exhaust
the unconscious.[Analytical Psychology and Education," CW
17, par. 206.]

Instinct and archetype are a pair of opposites, inextricably linked and
therefore often difficult to tell apart.

Psychic processes seem to be balances of energy flowing between
spirit and instinct, though the question of whether a process is to be
described as spiritual or as instinctual remains shrouded in darkness.
Such evaluation or interpretation depends entirely upon the standpoint
or state of the conscious mind.[On the Nature of the Psyche,"
CW 8, par. 407.]

When consciousness become overspiritualized, straying too far from its instinctual
foundation, self-regulating processes within the psyche become active in
an attempt to correct the balance. This is often signaled in dreams by animal
symbols, particularly snakes.

The snake is the representative of the world of instinct, especially
of those vital processes which are psychologically the least accessible
of all. Snake dreams always indicate a discrepancy between the attitude
of the conscious mind and instinct, the snake being a personification
of the threatening aspect of that conflict.[The Sacrifice,"
CW 5, par. 615.]

Introjection. A process of assimilation of object to subject,
the opposite of projection.

Introjection is a process of extraversion, since assimilation
to the object requires empathy and an investment of the object with libido.
A passive and an active introjection may be distinguished: transference
phenomena in the treatment of the neuroses belong to the former category,
and, in general, all cases where the object exercises a compelling influence
on the subject, while empathy as a process of adaptation belongs to the
latter category.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 768.]

Introspection. A process of reflection that focuses on personal
reactions, behavior patterns and attitudes. (See also meditation.)

The difference between introspection and introversion is that the latter
refers to the direction in which energy naturally moves, while the former
refers to self-examination. Neither introverts nor those with a well-developed
thinking function have a monopoly on introspection.

Introversion. A mode of psychological orientation where
the movement of energy is toward the inner world. (Compare extraversion.)

Everyone whose attitude is introverted thinks, feels, and acts
in a way that clearly demonstrates that the subject is the prime motivating
factor and that the object is of secondary importance. [
Ibid., par. 769.]

Always he has to prove that everything he does rests on his own decisions
and convictions, and never because he is influenced by anyone, or desires
to please or conciliate some person or opinion.["Psychological
Types," CW 6, par. 893.]

An introverted consciousness can be well aware of external conditions, but
is not motivated by them. The extreme introvert responds primarily to internal
impressions.

In a large gathering he feels lonely and lost. The more crowded
it is, the greater becomes his resistance. He is not in the least "with
it," and has no love of enthusiastic get-togethers. He is not a good mixer.
What he does, he does in his own way, barricading himself against influences
from outside. . . . Under normal conditions he is pessimistic and worried,
because the world and human beings are not in the least good but crush
him. . . .His own world is a safe harbour, a carefully tended and walled-in
garden, closed to the public and hidden from prying eyes. His own company
is the best.["Psychological Typology," ibid., pars. 976f.]

Signs of introversion in a child are a reflective, thoughtful manner and
resistance to outside influences.

The child wants his own way, and under no circumstances will
he submit to an alien rule he cannot understand. When he asks questions,
it is not from curiosity or a desire to create a sensation, but because
he wants names, meanings, explanations to give him subjective protection
against the object.["Psychological Types," ibid., par. 897.]

The introverted attitude tends to devalue things and other persons, to deny
their importance. Hence, by way of compensation, extreme introversion leads
to an unconscious reinforcement of the object's influence. This makes itself
felt as a tie, with concomitant emotional reactions, to outer circumstances
or another person.

The individual's freedom of mind is fettered by the ignominy
of his financial dependence, his freedom of action trembles in the face
of public opinion, his moral superiority collapses in a morass of inferior
relationships, and his desire to dominate ends in a pitiful craving to
be loved. It is now the unconscious that takes care of the relation to
the object, and it does so in a way that is calculated to bring the illusion
of power and the fantasy of superiority to utter ruin.["General
Description of the Types," ibid., par. 626.]

A person in this situation can be worn out from fruitless attempts to impose
his or her will.

These efforts are constantly being frustrated by the overwhelming
impressions received from the object. It continually imposes itself on
him against his will, it arouses in him the most disagreeable and intractable
affects and persecutes him at every step. A tremendous inner struggle
is needed all the time in order to "keep going." The typical form his
neurosis takes is psychasthenia, a malady characterized on the one hand
by extreme sensitivity and on the other by great proneness to exhaustion
and chronic fatigue.[ Ibid.]

In less extreme cases, introverts are simply more conservative than not,
preferring the familiar surroundings of home and intimate times with a few
close friends; they husband their energy and would rather stay put than
go from place to place. Their best work is done on their own resources,
on their own initiative and in their own way.

His retreat into himself is not a final renunciation of the
world, but a search for quietude, where alone it is possible for him to
make his contribution to the life of the community.[Psychological
Typology," ibid., par. 979.]

Intuition. The psychic function that perceives possibilities inherent
in the present. (Compare sensation.)

Intuition gives outlook and insight; it revels in the garden
of magical possibilities as if they were real.[The Psychology
of the Transference," CW 16, par. 492.]

In Jung's model of typology, intuition, like sensation, is an irrational
function because its apprehension of the world is based on the perception
of given facts. Unlike sensation, however, it perceives via the unconscious
and is not dependent on concrete reality.

In intuition a content presents itself whole and complete, without
our being able to explain or discover how this content came into existence.
Intuition is a kind of instinctive apprehension, no matter of what contents.
. . . Intuitive knowledge possesses an intrinsic certainty and conviction.[Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 770.]

Intuition may receive information from within (for instance, as a flash
of insight of unknown origin), or be stimulated by what is going on in someone
else.

The first is a perception of unconscious psychic data originating
in the subject, the second is a perception of data dependent on subliminal
perceptions of the object and on the feelings and thoughts they evoke.[Ibid.,
par. 771.]

Irrational. Not grounded in reason. (Compare rational.)

Jung pointed out that elementary existential facts fall into this category-for
instance, that the earth has a moon, that chlorine is an element or that
water freezes at a certain temperature and reaches its greatest density
at four degrees centigrade-as does chance. They are irrational not because
they are illogical, but because they are beyond reason.

In Jung's model of typology, the psychological functions of intuition
and sensation are described as irrational.

Both intuition and sensation are functions that find fulfilment
in the absolute perception of the flux of events. Hence, by their
very nature, they will react to every possible occurrence and be attuned
to the absolutely contingent, and must therefore lack all rational direction.
For this reason I call them irrational functions, as opposed to thinking
and feeling, which find fulfilment only when they are in complete harmony
with the laws of reason.[Ibid., pars. 776f.]

Merely because [irrational types] subordinate judgment to perception,
it would be quite wrong to regard them as "unreasonable." It wouldbe
truer to say that they are in the highest degree empirical. They
base themselves entirely on experience. ["General Description
of the Types," ibid., par. 616.]

Kore. In Greek mythology, a term for the personification of feminine
innocence (e.g., Persephone); psychologically, in man or wom-an, it refers
to an archetypal image of potential renewal.

The phenomenology of the Kore is essentially bipolar (as is that of any
archetype), associated with the mother-maiden dyad. When observed in the
products of a woman's unconscious, it is an image of the supraordinate
personality or self. In a man, the Kore is an aspect of the anima and
partakes in all the symbolism attached to his inner personality.

As a matter of practical observation, the Kore often appears
in woman as an unknown young girl . . . . The maiden's helplessness
exposes her to all sorts of dangers, for instance of being devoured
by reptiles or ritually slaughtered like a beast of sacrifice. Often there
are bloody, cruel, and even obscene orgies to which the innocent child
falls victim. Sometimes it is a true nekyia, a descent into Hades
and a quest for the "treasure hard to attain," occasionally connected
with orgiastic sexual rites or offerings of menstrual blood to the moon.
Oddly enough, the various tortures and obscenities are carried out by
an "Earth Mother." . . . The maiden who crops up in case histories differs
not inconsiderably from the vaguely flower-like Kore in that the modern
figure is more sharply delineated and not nearly so "unconscious."[The
Psychological Aspects of the Kore," CW 9i, par. 311.]

Demeter and Kore, mother and daughter, extend the feminine consciousness
both upwards and downwards. They add an "older and younger," "stronger
and weaker" dimension to it and widen out the narrowly limited conscious
mind bound in space and time, giving it intimations of a greater and
more comprehensive personality which has a share in the eternal course
of things. . . . We could therefore say that every mother contains her
daughter in herself and every daughter her mother, and that every woman
extends backwards into her mother and forwards into her daughter. .
. . The conscious experience of these ties produces the feeling that
her life is spread out over generations-the first step towards the immediate
experience and conviction of being outside time, which brings with it
a feeling of immortality.[ Ibid., par. 316.]

Libido. Psychic energy in general. (See also final.)

Libido can never be apprehended except in a definite form; that
is to say, it is identical with fantasy-images. And we can only release
it from the grip of the unconscious by bringing up the corresponding fantasy-images.[The
Technique of Differentiation," CW 7, par. 345.]

Jung specifically distanced his concept of libido from that of Freud, for
whom it had a predominantly sexual meaning.

All psychological phenomena can be considered as manifestations
of energy, in the same way that all physical phenomena have been understood
as energic manifestations ever since Robert Mayer discovered the law of
the conservation of energy. Subjectively and psychologically, this energy
is conceived as desire. I call it libido, using the word in its
original sense, which is by no means only sexual.[Psychoanalysis
and Neurosis," CW 4, par. 567.]

[Libido] denotes a desire or impulse which is unchecked by any kind
of authority, moral or otherwise. Libido is appetite in its natural
state. From the genetic point of view it is bodily needs like hunger,
thirst, sleep, and sex, and emotional states or affects, which constitute
the essence of libido.["The Concept of Libido," CW 5,
par. 194.]

In line with his belief that the psyche is a self-regulating system, Jung
associated libido with intentionality. It "knows" where it ought to go for
the overall health of the psyche.

The libido has, as it were, a natural penchant: it is like water,
which must have a gradient if it is to flow.[Symbols of
the Mother and of Rebirth," ibid., par. 337.]

Where there is a lack of libido (depression), it has backed up (re-gressed)
in order to stir up unconscious contents, the aim being to compensate the
attitudes of consciousness. What little energy is left resists being applied
in a consciously chosen direction.

It does not lie in our power to transfer "disposable" energy
at will to a rationally chosen object. The same is true in general of
the apparently disposable energy which is disengaged when we have destroyed
its unserviceable forms through the corrosive of reductive analysis. [It]
can at best be applied voluntarily for only a short time. But in most
cases it refuses to seize hold, for any length of time, of the possibilities
rationally presented to it. Psychic energy is a very fastidious thing
which insists on fulfilment of its own conditions. However much energy
may be present, we cannot make it serviceable until we have succeeded
in finding the right gradient.[The Problem of the Attitude-Type,"
CW 7, par. 76]

The analytic task in such a situation is to discover the natural gradient
of the person's energy.

What is it, at this moment and in this individual, that represents
the natural urge of life? That is the question.[The Structure
of the Unconscious," ibid., par. 488.]

]

Logos. The principle of logic and structure, traditionally associated
with spirit, the father world and the God-image. (See also animus
and Eros.)

There is no consciousness without discrimination of opposites.
This is the paternal principle, the Logos, which eternally struggles to
extricate itself from the primal warmth and primal darkness of the maternal
womb; in a word, from unconsciousness.["Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype," CW 9i, par. 178.]

In Jung's earlier writings, he intuitively equated masculine consciousness
with the concept of Logos and feminine consciousness with that of Eros.
Either one could be dominant in a particular man or woman, due to the contrasexual
complexes.

By Logos I meant discrimination, judgment, insight, and by Eros
I meant the capacity to relate. I regarded both concepts as intuitive
ideas which cannot be defined accurately or exhaustively. From the scientific
point of view this is regrettable, but from a practical one it has its
value, since the two concepts mark out a field of experience which it
is equally difficult to define.

As we can hardly ever make a psychological proposition without immediately
having to reverse it, instances to the contrary leap to the eye at once:
men who care nothing for discrimination, judgment, and insight, and
women who display an almost excessively masculine proficiency in this
respect. . . . Wherever this exists, we find a forcible intrusion of
the unconscious, a corresponding exclusion of the consciousness specific
to either sex, predominance of the shadow and of contrasexuality.[The
Personification of the Opposites," CW 14, pars. 224f.]

In his later writing on alchemy, Jung described Logos and Eros as psychologically
equivalent to solar and lunar consciousness, arche-typal ideas analogous
to the Eastern concepts of yang and yin-different qualities of energy. This
did not change his view that Eros was more "specific" to feminine consciousness
and Logos to masculine. Hence he attributed Eros in a man to the influence
of the anima, and Logos in a woman to that of the animus.

In a man it is the lunar anima, in a woman the solar animus,
that influences consciousness in the highest degree. Even if a man is
often unaware of his own anima-possession, he has, understandably enough,
all the more vivid an impression of the animus-possession
of his wife, and vice versa. [Ibid., par. 225.]

Loss of soul. A concept borrowed from anthropology, referring psychologically
to a state of general malaise.

The peculiar condition covered by this term is accounted for
in the mind of the primitive by the supposition that a soul has gone off,
just like a dog that runs away from his master overnight. It is then the
task of the medicine man to fetch the fugitive back. . . . Some-thing
similar can happen to civilized man, only he does not describe it as "loss
of soul" but as an "abaissement du niveau mental."[Concerning
Rebirth," CW 9i, par. 213.]

Mana-personality. A personified archetypal image of a supernatural
force.

The mana-personality is a dominant of the collective unconscious,
the well-known archetype of the mighty man in the form of hero, chief,
magician, medicine-man, saint, the ruler of men and spirits, the friend
of God.[The Mana-Personality," CW 7, par. 377.]

Historically, the mana-personality evolves into the hero and the godlike
being, whose earthly form is the priest. How very much the doctor is
still mana is the whole plaint of the analyst![Ibid.,
par. 389.]

Mana is a Melanesian word referring to a bewitching or numinous quality
in gods and sacred objects. A mana-personality embodies this magical power.
In individual psychology, Jung used it to describe the inflationary effect
of assimilating autonomous unconscious contents, particularly those associated
with anima and animus.

The ego has appropriated something that does not belong to it.
But how has it appropriated the mana? If it was really the ego that conquered
the anima, then the mana does indeed belong to it, and it would be correct
to conclude that one has become important. But why does not this importance,
the mana, work upon others? . . . It does not work because one has not
in fact become important, but has merely become adulterated with an archetype,
another unconscious figure. Hence we must conclude that the ego never
conquered the anima at all and therefore has not acquired the mana. All
that has happened is a new adulteration. [ Ibid., par. 380.]

Mandala. See quaternity and temenos.

Masculine. See animus and Logos.

Mechanistic. See causal, objective level and reductive.

Meditation. A technique of focused introspection.

Jung distinguished between meditation practiced in the East or in traditional
Western religious exercises, and its use as a tool for self-understanding,
particularly in the realization of projections.

If the ancient art of meditation is practised at all today,
it is practised only in religious or philosophical circles, where a theme
is subjectively chosen by the meditant or prescribed by an instructor,
as in the Ignatian Exercitia or in certain theosophical exercises
that developed under Indian influence. These methods are of value only
for increasing concentration and consolidating consciousness, but have
no significance as regards affecting a synthesis of the personality. On
the contrary, their purpose is to shield consciousness from the unconscious
and to suppress it.[The Conjunction," CW 14, par. 708.]

When meditation is concerned with the objective products of the unconscious
that reach consciousness spontaneously, it unites the conscious with
contents that proceed not from a conscious causal chain but from an
essentially unconscious process. . . . Part of the unconscious contents
is projected, but the projection as such is not recognized. Meditation
or critical introspection and objective investigation of the object
are needed in order to establish the existence of projections. If the
individual is to take stock of himself it is essential that his projections
should be recognized, because they falsify the nature of the object
and besides this contain items which belong to his own personality and
should be integrated with it.[ Ibid., par. 710.]

Mother complex. A group of feeling-toned ideas associated with the
experience and image of mother.

The mother complex is a potentially active component of everyone's psyche,
informed first of all by experience of the personal mother, then by significant
contact with other women and by collective assumptions. The constellation
of a mother complex has differing effects according to whether it appears
in a son or a daughter.

Typical effects on the son are homosexuality and Don Juanism,
and sometimes also impotence [though here the father complex also plays
a part]. In homosexuality, the son's entire heterosexuality is tied to
the mother in an unconscious form; in Don Juanism, he unconsciously seeks
his mother in every woman he meets.[Psychological Aspects
of the Mother Archetype," CW 9i, par. 162.]

A man's mother complex is influenced by the contrasexual complex, the anima.
To the extent that a man establishes a good relationship with his inner
woman (instead of being possessed by her), even a negative mother complex
may have positive effects.

[He] may have a finely differentiated Eros instead of, or in
addition to, homosexuality. . . . This gives him a great capacity for
friendship, which often creates ties of astonishing tenderness between
men and may even rescue friendship between the sexes from the limbo of
the impossible. . . .In the same way, what in its negative aspect is Don
Juanism can appear positively as bold and resolute manliness; ambitious
striving after the highest goals; opposition to all stupidity, narrow-mindedness,
injustice, and laziness; willingness to make sacrifices for what is regarded
as right, sometimes bordering on heroism; perseverance, inflexibility
and toughness of will; a curiosity that does not shrink even from the
riddles of the universe; and finally, a revolutionary spirit which strives
to put a new face upon the world.[Ibid., pars 164f.]

In the daughter, the effect of the mother complex ranges from stimulation
of the feminine instinct to its inhibition. In the first case, the preponderance
of instinct makes the woman unconscious of her own personality.

The exaggeration of the feminine side means an intensification
of all female instincts, above all the maternal instinct. The negative
aspect is seen in the woman whose only goal is childbirth. To her the
husband is . . . first and foremost the instrument of procreation, and
she regards him merely as an object to be looked after, along with children,
poor relations, cats, dogs, and household furniture. [Ibid.,
par. 167.]

In the second case, the feminine instinct is inhibited or wiped out altogether.

As a substitute, an overdeveloped Eros results, and this almost
invariably leads to an unconscious incestuous relationship with the father.
The intensified Eros places an abnormal emphasis on the personality of
others. Jealousy of the mother and the desire to outdo her become the
leitmotifs of subsequent undertakings.[Ibid., par. 168.]

Alternatively, the inhibition of the feminine instinct may lead a woman
to identify with her mother. She is then unconscious of both her own maternal
instinct and her Eros, which are then projected onto the mother.

As a sort of superwoman (admired involuntarily by the daughter),
the mother lives out for her beforehand all that the girl might have lived
for herself. She is content to cling to her mother in selfless devotion,
while at the same time unconsciously striving, almost against her will,
to tyrannize over her, naturally under the mask of complete loyalty and
devotion. The daughter leads a shadow-existence, often visibly sucked
dry by her mother, and she prolongs her mother's life by a sort of continuous
blood transfusion.[ Ibid., par. 169.]

Because of their apparent "emptiness," these women are good hooks for men's
projections. As devoted and self-sacrificing wives, they often project their
own unconscious gifts onto their husbands.

And then we have the spectacle of a totally insignificant man
who seemed to have no chance whatsoever suddenly soaring as if on a magic
carpet to the highest summits of achievement. [ Ibid., par.
182.]

In Jung's view, these three extreme types are linked together by many intermediate
stages, the most important being where there is an overwhelming resistance
to the mother and all she stands for.

It is the supreme example of the negative mother-complex. The
motto of this type is: Anything, so long as it is not like Mother! . .
. All instinctive processes meet with unexpected difficulties; either
sexuality does not function properly, or the children are unwanted, or
maternal duties seem unbearable, or the demands of marital life are responded
to with impatience and irritation.[Ibid., par. 170.]

Such a woman often excels in Logos activities, where her mother has no place.
If she can overcome her merely reactive attitude toward reality, she may
later in life come to a deeper appreciation of her femininity.

Thanks to her lucidity, objectivity, and masculinity, a woman of this
type is frequently found in important positions in which her tardily discovered
maternal quality, guided by a cool intelligence, exerts a most beneficial
influence. This rare combination of womanliness and masculine understanding
proves valuable in the realm of intimate relationships as well as in practical
matters. [Ibid., par. 186.]

At the core of any mother complex is the mother archetype, which means
that behind emotional associations with the personal mother, both in men
and in women, there is a collective image of nourishment and security
on the one hand (the positive mother), and devouring possessiveness on
the other (the negative mother).

Motif. See archetypal image.

Myth. An involuntary collective statement based on an unconscious
psychic experience.

The primitive mentality does not invent myths, it experiences
them. Myths are original revelations of the preconscious psyche . . .
. Many of these unconscious processes may be indirectly occasioned by
consciousness, but never by conscious choice. Others appear to arise spontaneously,
that is to say, from no discernible or demonstrable conscious cause.["The
Psychology of the Child Archetype," ibid., par. 261.]

Negative inflation. An unrealistically low opinion of oneself, due
to identification with the negative side of the shadow. (See also
inflation.)

Whenever a sense of moral inferiority appears, it indicates
not only a need to assimilate an unconscious component, but also the possibility
of such assimilation.[The Personal and the Collective Unconscious,"
CW 7, par. 218.]

Neurosis. A psychological crisis due to a state of disunity with
oneself, or, more formally, a mild dissociation of the personality
due to the activation of complexes. (See also adaptation, conflict
and self-regulation of the psyche.)

Any incompatibility of character can cause dissociation, and
too great a split between the thinking and the feeling function, for instance,
is already a slight neurosis. When you are not quite at one with yourself
. . . you are approaching a neurotic condition.[The Tavistock
Lectures," CW 18, par. 383.]

Every neurosis is characterized by dissociation and conflict, contains
complexes, and shows traces of regression and abaissement.[Analytical
Psychology and Education," CW 17, par. 204.]

Jung's view was that an outbreak of neurosis is purposeful, an opportunity
to become conscious of who we are as opposed to who we think we are. By
working through the symptoms that invariably accompany neurosis-anxiety,
fear, depression, guilt and particularly conflict-we become aware of our
limitations and discover our true strengths.

In many cases we have to say, "Thank heaven he could make up
his mind to be neurotic." Neurosis is really an attempt at self-cure.
. . . It is an attempt of the self-regulating psychic system to restore
the balance, in no way different from the function of dreams-only rather
more forceful and drastic.[The Tavistock Lectures," CW 18,
par. 389.]

I myself have known more than one person who owed his entire usefulness
and reason for existence to a neurosis, which prevented all the worst
follies in his life and forced him to a mode of living that developed
his valuable potentialities. These might have been stifled had not the
neurosis, with iron grip, held him to the place where he belonged. ["The
Problem of the Attitude-Type," CW 7, par. 68.]

In any breakdown in conscious functioning, energy regresses and unconscious
contents are activated in an attempt to compensate the one-sidedness of
consciousness.

Neuroses, like all illnesses, are symptoms of maladjustment.
Be-cause of some obstacle-a constitutional weakness or defect, wrong education,
bad experiences, an unsuitable attitude, etc.-one shrinks from the difficulties
which life brings and thus finds oneself back in the world of the infant.
The unconscious compensates this regression by producing symbols which,
when understood objectively, that is, by means of comparative research,
reactivate general ideas that underlie all such natural systems of thought.
In this way a change of attitude is brought about which bridges the dissociation
between man as he is and man as he ought to be. ["The Philosophical
Tree," CW 13, par. 473.]

Jung called his attitude toward neurosis energic or final since it was based
on the potential progression of energy rather than causal or mechanistic
reasons for its regression. The two views are not incompatible but rather
complementary: the mechanistic approach looks to the past for the cause
of psychic discomfort in the present; Jung focused on the present with an
eye to future possibilities.

I no longer seek the cause of a neurosis in the past, but in
the present. I ask, what is the necessary task which the patient will
not accomplish?["Psychoanalysis and Neurosis," CW4,
par. 570.]

In psychic disturbances it is by no means sufficient in all cases merely
to bring the supposed or real causes to consciousness. The treatment
involves the integration of contents that have become dissociated from
consciousness.[The Philosophical Tree," CW 13, par. 464.]

Jung did not dispute Freudian theory that Oedipal fixations can manifest
as neurosis in later life. He acknowledged that certain periods in life,
and particularly infancy, often have a permanent and determining influence
on the personality. But he found this to be an insufficient explanation
for those cases in which there was no trace of neurosis until the time of
the breakdown.

Freud's sexual theory of neurosis is grounded on a true and
factual principle. But it makes the mistake of being one-sided and exclusive;
also it commits the imprudence of trying to lay hold of unconfinable Eros
with the crude terminology of sex. In this respect Freud is a typical
representative of the materialistic epoch, whose hope it was to solve
the world riddle in a test-tube.["The Eros Theory," CW 7,
par. 33.]

If the fixation were indeed real [i.e., the primary cause] we should
expect to find its influence constant; in other words, a neurosis lasting
throughout life. This is obviously not the case. The psychological determination
of a neurosis is only partly due to an early infantile predisposition;
it must be due to some cause in the present as well. And if we carefully
examine the kind of infantile fantasies and occurrences to which the
neurotic is attached, we shall be obliged to agree that there is nothing
in them that is specifically neurotic. Normal individuals have pretty
much the same inner and outer experiences, and may be attached to them
to an astonishing degree without developing a neurosis.[Psychoanalysis
and Neurosis," CW4, par. 564.]

What then determines why one person becomes neurotic while another, in similar
circumstances, does not? Jung's answer is that the individual psyche knows
both its limits and its potential. If the former are being exceeded, or
the latter not realized, a breakdown occurs. The psyche itself acts to correct
the situation.

There are vast masses of the population who, despite their notorious
unconsciousness, never get anywhere near a neurosis. The few who are smitten
by such a fate are really persons of the "higher" type who, for one reason
or another, have remained too long on a primitive level. Their nature
does not in the long run tolerate persistence in what is for them an unnatural
torpor. As a result of their narrow conscious outlook and their cramped
existence they save energy; bit by bit it accumulates in the unconscious
and finally explodes in the form of a more or less acute neurosis.[The
Function of the Unconscious," CW 7, par. 291.]

Jung's view of neurosis differs radically from the classical reductive approach,
but it does not substantially change what happens in analysis. Activated
fantasies still have to be brought to light, because the energy needed for
life is attached to them. The object, however, is not to reveal a supposed
root cause of the neurosis but to establish a connection between consciousness
and the unconscious that will result in the renewed progression of energy.

Night sea journey. An archetypal motif in mythology, psychologically
associated with depression and the loss of energy characteristic
of neurosis.

The night sea journey is a kind of descensus ad inferos--a
descent into Hades and a journey to the land of ghosts somewhere beyond
this world, beyond consciousness, hence an immersion in the unconscious.["The
Psychology of the Transference," CW 16, par. 455.]

Mythologically, the night sea journey motif usually involves being swallowed
by a dragon or sea monster. It is also represented by imprisonment or crucifixion,
dismemberment or abduction, experiences traditionally weathered by sun-gods
and heroes: Gilgamesh, Osiris, Christ, Dante, Odysseus, Aeneas. In the language
of the mystics it is the dark night of the soul.

Jung interpreted such legends symbolically, as illustrations of the regressive
movement of energy in an outbreak of neurosis and its potential progression.

The hero is the symbolical exponent of the movement of libido.
Entry into the dragon is the regressive direction, and the journey to
the East (the "night sea journey") with its attendant events symbolizes
the effort to adapt to the conditions of the psychic inner world. The
complete swallowing up and disappearance of the hero in the belly of the
dragon represents the complete withdrawal of interest from the outer world.
The overcoming of the monster from within is the achievement of adaptation
to the conditions of the inner world, and the emergence ("slipping out")
of the hero from the monster's belly with the help of a bird, which happens
at the moment of sunrise, symbolizes the recommencement of progression.["On
Psychic Energy," CW 8, par. 68.]

All the night sea journey myths derive from the perceived behavior of the
sun, which, in Jung's lyrical image, "sails over the sea like an immortal
god who every evening is immersed in the maternal waters and is born anew
in the morning.["Symbols of the Mother and of Rebirth," CW
5, par. 306.] The sun going down, analogous to the loss of energy
in a depression, is the necessary prelude to rebirth. Cleansed in the healing
waters (the unconscious), the sun (ego-consciousness) lives again.

Nigredo. An alchemical term, corresponding psychologically to
the mental disorientation that typically arises in the process of assimilating
unconscious contents, particularly aspects of the shadow.

Self-knowledge is an adventure that carries us unexpectedly
far and deep. Even a moderately comprehensive knowledge of the shadow
can cause a good deal of confusion and mental darkness, since it gives
rise to personality problems which one had never remotely imagined before.
For this reason alone we can understand why the alchemists called their
nigredo melancholia, "a black blacker than black," night, an affliction
of the soul, confusion, etc., or, more pointedly, the "black raven." For
us the raven seems only a funny allegory, but for the medieval adept it
was . . . a well-known allegory of the devil.[The Conjunction,"
CW 14, par. 741.]

Numinous. Descriptive of persons, things or situations having a deep
emotional resonance, psychologically associated with experiences of the
self.
Numinous, like numinosity, comes from Latin numinosum, referring to a dynamic
agency or effect independent of the conscious will.

Religious teaching as well as the consensus gentium always
and everywhere explain this experience as being due to a cause external
to the individual. The numinosum is either a quality belonging
to a visible object or the influence of an invisible presence that causes
a peculiar alteration of consciousness.[Psychology and Religion," CW 11,
par. 6.]

Objectivation. A process of differentiating the ego from both
other persons and contents of the unconscious. (See also active imagination.)

Its goal is to detach consciousness from the object so that
the individual no longer places the guarantee of his happiness, or of
his life even, in factors outside himself, whether they be persons, ideas,
or circumstances, but comes to realize that everything depends on whether
he holds the treasure or not. If the possession of that gold is realized,
then the centre of gravity is in the individual and no longer in
an object on which he depends.[The Tavistock Lectures,"
CW 18, par. 377.]

Jung pointed out that the "treasure" has traditionally been projected onto
sacred figures, but that many modern individuals no longer find satisfaction
in such historical symbols. They therefore need to find an individual method
to "give shape" to the personal complexes and archetypal images.

For they have to take on form, they have to live their characteristic
life, otherwise the individual is severed from the basic function of the
psyche [compensation], and then he is neurotic, he is disorientated and
in conflict with himself. But if he is able to objectify the impersonal
images and relate to them, he is in touch with that vital psychological
function which from the dawn of consciousness has been taken care of by
religion.[Ibid., par. 378.]

Objective level. An approach to understanding the meaning of images
in dreams and fantasies by reference to persons or situations in the outside
world. (See also reductive; compare constructive and subjective
level.)

Freud's interpretation of dreams is almost entirely on the objective
level, since the dream wishes refer to real objects, or to sexual processes
which fall within the physiological, extra-psychological sphere. [Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 779.]

Although Jung pioneered the teaching of dream interpretation on the subjective
level, where symbolic meaning is paramount, he also recognized the value
of the objective approach.

Enlightening as interpretation on the subjective level may be
. . . it may be entirely worthless when a vitally important relationship
is the content and cause of the conflict [behind the dream]. Here the
dream-figure must be related to the real object. The criterion can always
be discovered from the conscious material. [General Aspects
of Dream Psychology," CW 8, par. 515.]

Objective psyche. See collective unconscious.

Opposites. Psychologically, the ego and the unconscious. (See
also compensation, conflict, progression and transcendent function.)

There is no consciousness without discrimination of opposites.["Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype," CW 9i, par. 178.]

There is no form of human tragedy that does not in some measure proceed
from [the] conflict between the ego and the unconscious.["Analytical
Psychology and Weltanschauung," CW 8, par. 706."]

Whatever attitude exists in the conscious mind, and whichever psychological
function is dominant, the opposite is in the unconscious. This situation
seldom precipitates a crisis in the first half of life. But for older people
who reach an impasse, characterized by a one-sided conscious attitude and
the blockage of energy, it is necessary to bring to light psychic contents
that have been repressed.

The repressed content must be made conscious so as to produce
a tension of opposites, without which no forward movement is possible.
The conscious mind is on top, the shadow underneath, and just as high
always longs for low and hot for cold, so all consciousness, perhaps without
being aware of it, seeks its unconscious opposite, lacking which it is
doomed to stagnation, congestion, and ossification. Life is born only
of the spark of opposites.[The Problem of the Attitude-Type,"
CW 7, par. 78.]

This in turn activates the process of compensation, which leads to an irrational
"third," the transcendent function.

Out of [the] collision of opposites the unconscious psyche always
creates a third thing of an irrational nature, which the conscious mind
neither expects nor understands. It presents itself in a form that is
neither a straight "yes" nor a straight "no."[The Psychology
of the Child Archetype," CW 9i, par. 285.The Psychology of the Child Archetype,"
CW 9i, par. 285.]

Jung explained the potential renewal of the personality in terms of the
principle of entropy in physics, according to which transformations of energy
in a relatively closed system take place, and are only possible, as a result
of differences in intensity.

Psychologically, we can see this process at work in the development
of a lasting and relatively unchanging attitude. After violent oscillations
at the beginning the opposites equalize one another, and gradually a new
attitude develops, the final stability of which is the greater in proportion
to the magnitude of the initial differences. The greater the tension between
the pairs of opposites, the greater will be the energy that comes from
them . . . [and] the less chance is there of subsequent disturbances which
might arise from friction with material not previously constellated.["On
Psychic Energy," CW 8, par. 49."]

Some degree of tension between consciousness and the unconsciousness is
both unavoidable and necessary. The aim of analysis is therefore not to
eliminate the tension but rather to understand the role it plays in the
self-regulation of the psyche. Moreover, the assimilation of unconscious
contents results in the ego becoming responsible for what was previously
unconscious. There is thus no question of anyone ever being completely at
peace.

The united personality will never quite lose the painful sense
of innate discord. Complete redemption from the sufferings of this world
is and must remain an illusion. Christ's earthly life likewise ended,
not in complacent bliss, but on the cross.["The Psychology
of the Transference," CW 16, par. 400.]

Jung further believed that anyone who attempts to deal with the problem
of the opposites on a personal level is making a significant contribution
toward world peace.

The psychological rule says that when an inner situation is
not made conscious, it happens outside, as fate. That is to say, when
the individual remains undivided and does not become conscious of his
inner opposite, the world must perforce act out the conflict and be torn
into opposing halves.[Christ, A Symbol of the Self," CW
9ii, par. 126.]

Orientation. A term used to indicate the general principle governing
a personal attitude or viewpoint.

One's psychological orientation determines how one sees and interprets
reality. In Jung's model of typology, a thinking attitude is oriented
by the principle of logic; a sensation attitude is oriented by the direct
perception of concrete facts; intuition orients itself to future possibilities;
and feeling is governed by subjective worth. Each of these attitudes may
operate in an introverted or extraverted way.

Parental complex. A group of emotionally charged images and ideas
associated with the parents. (See also incest.)
Jung believed that the numinosity surrounding the personal parents, apparent
in their more or less magical influence, was to a large extent due to
an archetypal image of the primordial parents resident in every psyche.

The importance that modern psychology attaches to the "parental
complex" is a direct continuation of primitive man's experience of the
dangerous power of the ancestral spirits. Even the error of judgment which
leads him unthinkingly to assume that the spirits are realities of the
external world is carried on in our assumption (which is only partially
correct) that the real parents are responsible for the parental complex.
In the old trauma theory of Freudian psychoanalysis, and in other quarters
as well, this assumption even passed for a scientific explanation. (It
was in order to avoid this confusion that I advocated the term "parental
imago.")[The Function of the Unconscious," CW 7, par. 293.]

The imago of the parents is composed of both the image created in the individual
psyche from the experience of the personal parents and collective elements
already present.

The image is unconsciously projected, and when the parents die,
the projected image goes on working as though it were a spirit existing
on its own. The primitive then speaks of parental spirits who return by
night (revenants), while the modern man calls it a father or mother complex.
[ Ibid., par. 294.]

So long as a positive or negative resemblance to the parents is the
deciding factor in a love choice, the release from the parental imago,
and hence from childhood, is not complete.[Mind and Earth,"
CW 10, par. 74].

Participation mystique. A term derived from anthropology and the
study of primitive psychology, denoting a mystical connection, or identity,
between subject and object. (See also archaic, identification and
projection.)

[Participation mystique] consists in the fact that the subject
cannot clearly distinguish himself from the object but is bound to it
by a direct relationship which amounts to partial identity. . . . Among
civilized peoples it usually occurs between persons, seldom between a
person and a thing. In the first case it is a transference relationship
. . . . In the second case there is a similar influence on the part of
the thing, or else an identification with a thing or the idea of a thing.[Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 781.]

[Identity] is a characteristic of the primitive mentality and the real
foundation of participation mystique, which is nothing but a
relic of the original non-differentiation of subject and object, and
hence of the primordial unconscious state. It is also a characteristic
of the mental state of early infancy, and, finally, of the unconscious
of the civilized adult.[Ibid., par. 741.]

Persona. The "I," usually ideal aspects of ourselves, that we present
to the outside world.

The persona is . . . a functional complex that comes into existence
for reasons of adaptation or personal convenience. [Ibid.,
par. 801.]

The persona is that which in reality one is not, but which oneself
as well as others think one is.["Concerning Rebirth,"
CW 9i, par. 221.]

Originally the word persona meant a mask worn by actors to indicate the
role they played. On this level, it is both a protective covering and an
asset in mixing with other people. Civilized society depends on interactions
between people through the persona.

There are indeed people who lack a developed persona . . . blundering
from one social solecism to the next, perfectly harmless and innocent,
soulful bores or appealing children, or, if they are women, spectral Cassandras
dreaded for their tactlessness, eternally misunderstood, never knowing
what they are about, always taking forgiveness for granted, blind to the
world, hopeless dreamers. From them we can see how a neglected persona
works.["Anima and Animus," CW 7, par. 318.]

Before the persona has been differentiated from the ego, the persona is
experienced as individuality. In fact, as a social identity on the one hand
and an ideal image on the other, there is little individual about it.

It is, as its name implies, only a mask of the collective psyche,
a mask that feigns individuality, making others and oneself believe that
one is individual, whereas one is simply acting a role through which the
collective psyche speaks.
When we analyse the persona we strip off the mask, and discover that what
seemed to be individual is at bottom collective; in other words, that
the persona was only a mask of the collective psyche. Fundamentally the
persona is nothing real: it is a compromise between individual and society
as to what a man should appear to be. He takes a name, earns a title,
exercises a function, he is this or that. In a certain sense all this
is real, yet in relation to the essential individuality of the person
concerned it is only a secondary reality, a compromise formation, in making
which others often have a greater share than he. ["The Persona
as a Segment of the Collective Psyche," ibid., pars. 245f.]

A psychological understanding of the persona as a function of relationship
to the outside world makes it possible to assume and drop one at will. But
by rewarding a particular persona, the outside world invites identification
with it. Money, respect and power come to those who can perform single-mindedly
and well in a social role. From being a useful convenience, therefore, the
persona may become a trap and a source of neurosis.

A man cannot get rid of himself in favour of an artificial personality
without punishment. Even the attempt to do so brings on, in all ordinary
cases, unconscious reactions in the form of bad moods, affects, phobias,
obsessive ideas, backsliding vices, etc. The social "strong man" is in
his private life often a mere child where his own states of feeling are
concerned.["Anima and Animus," ibid., par. 307. ]

The demands of propriety and good manners are an added inducement to
assume a becoming mask. What goes on behind the mask is then called
"private life." This painfully familiar division of consciousness into
two figures, often preposterously different, is an incisive psychological
operation that is bound to have repercussions on the unconscious.[Ibid.,
par. 305.]

Among the consequences of identifying with a persona are: we lose sight
of who we are without a protective covering; our reactions are predetermined
by collective expectations (we do and think and feel what our persona "should"
do, think and feel); those close to us complain of our emotional distance;
and we cannot imagine life without it.

To the extent that ego-consciousness is identified with the persona,
the neglected inner life (personified in the shadow and anima or animus)
is activated in compensation. The consequences, experienced in symptoms
characteristic of neurosis, can stimulate the process of individuation.

There is, after all, something individual in the peculiar choice
and delineation of the persona, and . . . despite the exclusive identity
of the ego-consciousness with the persona the unconscious self, one's
real individuality, is always present and makes itself felt indirectly
if not directly. Although the ego-consciousness is at first identical
with the persona-that compromise role in which we parade before the community-yet
the unconscious self can never be repressed to the point of extinction.
Its influence is chiefly manifest in the special nature of the contrasting
and compensating contents of the unconscious. The purely personal attitude
of the conscious mind evokes reactions on the part of the unconscious,
and these, together with personal repressions, contain the seeds of individual
development.[The Persona as a Segment of the Collective
Psyche," ibid., par. 247.]

Personal unconscious. The personal layer of the unconscious,
distinct from the collective unconscious.

The personal unconscious contains lost memories, painful ideas
that are repressed (i.e., forgotten on purpose), subliminal perceptions,
by which are meant sense-perceptions that were not strong enough to reach
consciousness, and finally, contents that are not yet ripe for consciousness.[The
Personal and the Collective Unconscious," ibid., par. 103.]

Personality. Aspects of the soul as it functions in the world. (See
also individuality.)

For the development of personality, differentiation from collective values,
particularly those embodied in and adhered to by the persona, is essential.

A change from one milieu to another brings about a striking
alteration of personality, and on each occasion a clearly defined character
emerges that is noticeably different from the previous one. . . . The
social character is oriented on the one hand by the expectations and demands
of society, and on the other by the social aims and aspirations of the
individual. The domestic character is, as a rule, moulded by emotional
demands and an easy-going acquiescence for the sake of comfort and convenience;
when it frequently happens that men who in public life are extremely energetic,
spirited, obstinate, wilful and ruthless appear good-natured, mild, compliant,
even weak, when at home and in the bosom of the family. Which is the true
character, the real personality? . . .
. . . . In my view the answer to the above question should be that such
a man has no real character at all: he is not individual but collective,
the plaything of circumstance and general expectations. Were he individual,
he would have the same character despite the variation of attitude. He
would not be identical with the attitude of the moment, and he neither
would nor could prevent his individuality from expressing itself just
as clearly in one state as in another.["Definitions," CW
6, pars. 798f.]

Personification. The tendency of psychic contents or complexes to
take on a distinct personality, separate from the ego.

Every autonomous or even relatively autonomous complex has the
peculiarity of appearing as a personality, i.e., of being personified.
This can be observed most readily in the so-called spiritualistic manifestations
of automatic writing and the like. The sentences produced are always personal
statements and are propounded in the first person singular, as though
behind every utterance there stood an actual personality. A naïve
intelligence at once thinks of spirits.["Anima and Animus,"
CW 7, par. 312.]

The ego may also deliberately personify unconscious contents or the affects
that arise from them, using the method of active imagination, in order to
facilitate communication between consciousness and the unconscious.

Philosophers' stone. In alchemy, a metaphor for the successful
transmutation of base metal into gold; psychologically, an archetypal
image of wholeness. (See also coniunctio.)

Jung quoted from the Rosarium philosophorum:

Make a round circle of man and woman, extract therefrom a quadrangle
and from it a triangle. Make the circle round, and you will have the Philosophers'
Stone.["Psychology and Religion," CW 11, par. 92.]

Possession. A term used to describe the identification of
consciousness with an unconscious content or complex. The most common
forms of possession are by the shadow and the contrasexual complexes, anima/animus.

A man who is possessed by his shadow is always standing in his
own light and falling into his own traps. Whenever possible, he prefers
to make an unfavorable impression on others. . . .
Possession caused by the anima or animus presents a different picture.
. . . In the state of possession both figures lose their charm and their
values; they retain them only when they are turned away from the world,
in the introverted state, when they serve as bridges to the unconscious.
Turned towards the world, the anima is fickle, capricious, moody, uncontrolled
and emotional, sometimes gifted with daemonic intuitions, ruthless, malicious,
untruthful, bitchy, double-faced, and mystical. The animus is obstinate,
harping on principles, laying down the law, dogmatic, world-reforming,
theoretic, word-mongering, argumentative, and domineering. Both alike
have bad taste: the anima surrounds herself with inferior people, and
the animus lets himself be taken in by second-rate thinking.["Concerning
Rebirth," CW 9i, pars. 222f.]

Power complex. A group of emotionally toned ideas associated with
an attitude that seeks to subordinate all influences and experience to the
supremacy of the personal ego.

Prima materia. An alchemical term meaning "original matter," used
psychologically to denote both the instinctual foundation of life and
the raw material one works with in analysis-dreams, emotions, conflicts,
etc.

Primary function. The psychological function that is most differentiated.
(Compare inferior function.) In Jung's model of typology, the primary
or superior function is the one we automatically use because it comes
most naturally.

Experience shows that it is practically impossible, owing to
adverse circumstances in general, for anyone to develop all his psychological
functions simultaneously. The demands of society compel a man to apply
himself first and foremost to the differentiation of the function with
which he is best equipped by nature, or which will secure him the greatest
social success. Very frequently, indeed as a general rule, a man identifies
more or less completely with the most favoured and hence the most developed
function. It is this that gives rise to the various psychological types.[Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 763.]

In deciding which of the four functions-thinking, feeling, sensation or
intuition-is primary, one must closely observe which function is more or
less completely under conscious control, and which functions have a haphazard
or random character. The superior function (which can manifest in either
an introverted or an extraverted way) is always more highly developed than
the others, which possess infantile and primitive traits.

The superior function is always an expression of the conscious
personality, of its aims, will, and general performance, whereas the less
differentiated functions fall into the category of things that simply
"happen" to one.[General Description of the Types," ibid.,
par. 575.]

Primitive. Descriptive of the original, or undifferentiated, human
psyche. (See also archaic.)

I use the term "primitive" in the sense of "primordial," and
. . . do not imply any kind of value judgment. Also, when I speak of a
"vestige" of a primitive state, I no not necessarily mean that this state
will sooner or later come to an end. On the contrary, I see no reason
why it should not endure as long as humanity lasts.["A Review
of the Complex Theory," CW 8, par. 218.]

Primordial image. See archetypal image.

Progression. The daily advance of the process of psychological
adaptation, the opposite of regression. (See also neurosis.)

Progression is a forwards movement of life in the same sense
that time moves forwards. This movement can occur in two different forms:
either extraverted, when the progression is predominantly influenced by
objects and environmental conditions, or introverted, when it has to adapt
itself to the conditions of the ego (or, more accurately, of the "subjective
factor"). Similarly, regression can proceed along two lines: either as
a retreat from the outside world (introversion), or as a flight into extravagant
experience of the outside world (extraversion). Failure in the first case
drives a man into a state of dull brooding, and in the second case into
leading the life of a wastrel. ["On Psychic Energy," ibid.,
par. 77.]

In the normal course of life, there is a relatively easy progression of
libido; energy may be directed more or less at will. This is not the same
as psychological development or individuation. Progression refers simply
to the continuous flow or current of life. It is commonly interrupted by
a conflict or the inability to adapt to changing circumstances.

During the progression of libido the pairs of opposites are
united in the co-ordinated flow of psychic processes. . . . But in the
stoppage of libido that occurs when progression has become impossible,
positive and negative can no longer unite in co-ordinated action, because
both have attained an equal value which keeps the scales balanced. [Ibid.,
par. 61.]

The struggle between the opposites would continue unabated if the process
of regression, the backward movement of libido, did not set in, its purpose
being to compensate the conscious attitude.

Through their collision the opposites are gradually deprived
of value and depotentiated. . . . In proportion to the decrease in value
of the conscious opposites there is an increase in value of all those
psychic processes which are not concerned with outward adaptation and
therefore are seldom or never employed consciously.["On
Psychic Energy," ibid., par. 62.]

As the energic value of these previously unconscious psychic processes increases,
they manifest indirectly as disturbances of conscious behavior and symptoms
characteristic of neurosis. Prominent aspects of the psyche one then needs
to become aware of are the persona, the contrasexual complex (anima/animus)
and the shadow.

Projection. An automatic process whereby contents of one's own
unconscious are perceived to be in others. (See also archaic, identification
and participation mystique.)

Just as we tend to assume that the world is as we see it, we
naïvely suppose that people are as we imagine them to be. . . . All
the contents of our unconscious are constantly being projected into our
surroundings, and it is only by recognizing certain properties of the
objects as projections or imagos that we are able to distinguish them
from the real properties of the objects. . . . Cum grano salis,
we always see our own unavowed mistakes in our opponent. Excellent examples
of this are to be found in all personal quarrels. Unless we are possessed
of an unusual degree of self-awareness we shall never see through our
projections but must always succumb to them, because the mind in its natural
state presupposes the existence of such projections. It is the natural
and given thing for unconscious contents to be projected.["General
Aspects of Dream Psychology," ibid., par. 507.]"

Projection means the expulsion of a subjective content into an object;
it is the opposite of introjection. Accordingly, it is a process of
dissimilation, by which a subjective content becomes alienated from
the subject and is, so to speak, embodied in the object. The subject
gets rid of painful, incompatible contents by projecting them.[Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 783.]

Projection is not a conscious process. One meets with projections, one does
not make them.

The general psychological reason for projection is always an
activated unconscious that seeks expression.["The Tavistock
Lectures," CW 18, par. 352.]

It is possible to project certain characteristics onto another person who
does not possess them at all, but the one being projected upon may unconsciously
encourage it.

It frequently happens that the object offers a hook to the projection,
and even lures it out. This is generally the case when the object himself
(or herself) is not conscious of the quality in question: in that way
it works directly upon the unconscious of the projicient. For all projections
provoke counter-projections when the object is unconscious of the
quality projected upon it by the subject.[General Aspects
of Dream Psychology," CW 8, par. 519.]

Through projection one can create a series of imaginary relationships that
often have little or nothing to do with the outside world.

The effect of projection is to isolate the subject from his
environment, since instead of a real relation to it there is now only
an illusory one. Projections change the world into the replica of one's
own unknown face. In the last analysis, therefore, they lead to an autoerotic
or autistic condition in which one dreams a world whose reality remains
forever unattainable.[The Shadow," CW 9ii, par. 17.]

Projection also has positive effects. In everyday life it facilitates interpersonal
relations. In addition, when we assume that some quality or characteristic
is present in another, and then, through experience, find that this is not
so, we can learn something about ourselves. This involves withdrawing or
dissolving projections.

So long as the libido can use these projections as agreeable
and convenient bridges to the world, they will alleviate life in a positive
way. But as soon as the libido wants to strike out on another path, and
for this purpose begins running back along the previous bridges of projection,
they will work as the greatest hindrances it is possible to imagine, for
they effectively prevent any real detachment from the former object.["General
Aspects of Dream Psychology," CW 8, par. 507.]

The need to withdraw projections is generally signaled by frustrated expectations
in relationships, accompanied by strong affect. But Jung believed that until
there is an obvious discordance between what we imagine to be true and the
reality we are presented with, there is no need to speak of projections,
let alone withdraw them.

Projection . . . is properly so called only when the need to
dissolve the identity with the object has already arisen. This need arises
when the identity becomes a disturbing factor, i.e., when the absence
of the projected content is a hindrance to adaptation and its withdrawal
into the subject has become desirable. From this moment the previous partial
identity acquires the character of projection. The term projection therefore
signifies a state of identity that has become noticeable.["Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 783.]

Jung distinguished between passive projection and active projection.
Passive projection is completely automatic and unintentional, like falling
in love. The less we know about another person, the easier it is to passively
project unconscious aspects of ourselves onto them.
Active projection is better known as empathy-we feel ourselves into the
other's shoes. Empathy that extends to the point where we lose our own standpoint
becomes identification.

The projection of the personal shadow generally falls on persons of the
same sex. On a collective level, it gives rise to war, scapegoating and
confrontations between political parties. Projection that takes place
in the context of a therapeutic relationship is called transference or
countertransference, depending on whether the analysand or the analyst
is the one projecting.

In terms of the contrasexual complexes, anima and animus, projection
is both a common cause of animosity and a singular source of vitality.

When animus and anima meet, the animus draws his sword of power
and the anima ejects her poison of illusion and seduction. The outcome
need not always be negative, since the two are equally likely to fall
in love.[The Syzygy: Anima and Animus," CW 9ii, par. 30.]

Provisional life. A term used to describe an attitude toward life
that is more or less imaginary, not rooted in the here and now, commonly
associated with puer psychology.

Psyche. The totality of all psychological processes, both conscious
and unconscious.

The psyche is far from being a homogenous unit--on the contrary,
it is a boiling cauldron of contradictory impulses, inhibitions, and affects,
and for many people the conflict between them is so insupportable that
they even wish for the deliverance preached by theologians.["Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype," CW 9i, par. 190.]

The way in which the psyche manifests is a complicated interplay of many
factors, including an individual's age, sex, hereditary disposition, psychological
type and attitude, and degree of conscious control over the instincts.

Psychic processes . . . behave like a scale along which consciousness
"slides." At one moment it finds itself in the vicinity of instinct, and
falls under its influence; at another, it slides along to the other end
where spirit predominates and even assimilates the instinctual processes
most opposed to it. ["On the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8,
par. 408.]

The tremendous complexity of psychic phenomena led Jung to the belief that
attempts to formulate a comprehensive theory of the psyche were doomed to
failure.

The premises are always far too simple. The psyche is the starting-point
of all human experience, and all the knowledge we have gained eventually
leads back to it. The psyche is the beginning and end of all cognition.
It is not only the object of its science, but the subject also. This gives
psychology a unique place among all the other sciences: on the one hand
there is a constant doubt as to the possibility of its being a science
at all, while on the other hand psychology acquires the right to state
a theoretical problem the solution of which will be one of the most difficult
tasks for a future philosophy.[Psychological Factors in
Human Behaviour," ibid., par. 261.]

Psychic energy. See libido.

Psychization. The process of reflection whereby an instinct
or unconscious content is made conscious.

Psychogenic. Descriptive of mental disturbances having a psychological
rather than physiological origin.

Nobody doubts that the neuroses are psychogenic. "Psychogenesis"
means that the essential cause of a neurosis, or the condition under which
it arises, is of a psychic nature. It may, for instance, be a psychic
shock, a gruelling conflict, a wrong kind of psychic adaptation, a fatal
illusion, and so on.["Mental disease and the Psyche," CW
3, par. 496.]

Psychoid. A concept applicable to virtually any archetype, expressing
the essentially unknown but experienceable connection between psyche and
matter.

Psyche is essentially conflict between blind instinct and will
(freedom of choice). Where instinct predominates, psychoid processes
set in which pertain to the sphere of the unconscious as elements incapable
of consciousness. The psychoid process is not the unconscious as such,
for this has a far greater extension.["On the Nature of
the Psyche," CW 8, par. 380.]

It seems to me probable that the real nature of the archetype is not
capable of being made conscious, that it is transcendent, on which account
I call it psychoid. [ Ibid., par. 417.]

Psychological types. See type and typology.

Psychopomp. A psychic factor that mediates unconscious contents
to consciousness, often personified in the image of a wise old man or
woman, and sometimes as a helpful animal.

Psychosis. An extreme dissociation of the personality. Like neurosis,
a psychotic condition is due to the activity of unconscious complexes
and the phenomenon of splitting. In neurosis, the complexes are only relatively
autonomous. In psychosis, they are completely disconnected from consciousness.

To have complexes is in itself normal; but if the complexes
are incompatible, that part of the personality which is too contrary to
the conscious part becomes split off. If the split reaches the organic
structure, the dissociation is a psychosis, a schizophrenic condition,
as the term denotes. Each complex then lives an existence of its own,
with no personality left to tie them together.["The Tavistock
Lectures," CW 18, par. 382.]

[In schizophrenia] the split-off figures assume banal, grotesque, or
highly exaggerated names and characters, and are often objectionable
in many other ways. They do not, moreover, co-operate with the patient's
consciousness. They are not tactful and they have no respect for sentimental
values. On the contrary, they break in and make a disturbance at any
time, they torment the ego in a hundred ways; all are objectionable
and shocking, either in their noisy and impertinent behaviour or in
their grotesque cruelty and obscenity. There is an apparent chaos of
incoherent visions, voices, and characters, all of an overwhelmingly
strange and incomprehensible nature.[On the Psychogenesis
of Schizophrenia," CW 3, par. 508.]

Jung believed that many psychoses, and particularly schizophrenia, were
psychogenic, resulting from an abaissement du niveau mental and an
ego too weak to resist the onslaught of unconscious contents. He reserved
judgment on whether biological factors were a contributing cause.

Puer aeternus. Latin for "eternal child," used in mythology to
designate a child-god who is forever young; psychologically it refers
to an older man whose emotional life has remained at an adolescent level,
usually coupled with too great a dependence on the mother.[The term
puella is used when referring to a woman, though one might also speak
of a puer animus-or a puella anima.]

The puer typically leads a provisional life, due to the fear of being
caught in a situation from which it might not be possible to escape. His
lot is seldom what he really wants and one day he will do something about
it-but not just yet. Plans for the future slip away in fantasies of what
will be, what could be, while no decisive action is taken to change. He
covets independence and freedom, chafes at boundaries and limits, and
tends to find any restriction intolerable.

[The world] makes demands on the masculinity of a man, on his
ardour, above all on his courage and resolution when it comes to throwing
his whole being into the scales. For this he would need a faithless Eros,
one capable of forgetting his mother and undergoing the pain of relinquishing
the first love of his life.[The Syzygy: Anima and Animus,"
CW 9ii, par. 22.]

Common symptoms of puer psychology are dreams of imprisonment and similar
imagery: chains, bars, cages, entrapment, bondage. Life itself, existential
reality, is experienced as a prison. The bars are unconscious ties to the
unfettered world of early life.

The puer's shadow is the senex (Latin for "old man"), associated with
the god Apollo-disciplined, controlled, responsible, rational, ordered.
Conversely, the shadow of the senex is the puer, related to Dionysus-unbounded
instinct, disorder, intoxication, whimsy.

Whoever lives out one pattern to the exclusion of the other risks constellating
the opposite. Hence individuation quite as often involves the need for
a well-controlled person to get closer to the spontaneous, instinctual
life as it does the puer's need to grow up.

The "eternal child" in man is an indescribable experience, an
incongruity, a handicap, and a divine prerogative; an imponderable that
determines the ultimate worth or worthlessness of a personality.[The
Psychology of the Child Archetype," CW 9i, par. 300.]

Quaternity. An image with a four-fold structure, usually square or
circular and symmetrical; psychologically, it points to the idea of wholeness.
(See also temenos.)

The quaternity is one of the most widespread archetypes and
has also proved to be one of the most useful schemata for representing
the arrangement of the functions by which the conscious mind takes its
bearings.[See below, typology.] It is like the crossed threads
in the telescope of our understanding. The cross formed by the points
of the quaternity is no less universal and has in addition the highest
possible moral and religious significance for Western man. Similarly the
circle, as the symbol of completeness and perfect being, is a widespread
expression for heaven, sun, and God; it also expresses the primordial
image of man and the soul.["The Psychology of the Transference,"
CW 16, par. 405.]

From the circle and quaternity motif is derived the symbol of the geometrically
formed crystal and the wonder-working stone. From here analogy formation
leads on to the city, castle, church, house, and vessel. Another variant
is the wheel (rota). The former motif emphasizes the ego's containment
in the greater dimension of the self; the latter emphasizes the rotation
which also appears as a ritual circumambulation. Psychologically, it
denotes concentration on and preoccupation with a centre.[The
Structure and Dynamics of the Self," CW 9ii, par. 352.]

Jung believed that the spontaneous production of quaternary images (including
mandalas), whether consciously or in dreams and fantasies, can indicate
the ego's capacity to assimilate unconscious material. But they may also
be essentially apotropaic, an attempt by the psyche to prevent itself from
disintegrating.

These images are naturally only anticipations of a wholeness
which is, in principle, always just beyond our reach. Also, they do not
invariably indicate a subliminal readiness on the part of the patient
to realize that wholeness consciously, at a later stage; often they mean
no more than a temporary compensation of chaotic confusion.[The
Psychology of the Transference," CW 16, par. 536.]

Rapport. A feeling of agreement between oneself and others.

It frequently happens that despite an absolute difference of
standpoint a rapport nevertheless comes about, and in the following way:
one party, by unspoken projection, assumes that the other is, in all essentials,
of the same opinion as himself, while the other divines or senses an objective
community of interest, of which, however, the former has no conscious
inkling and whose existence he would at once dispute, just as it would
never occur to the other that his relationship should be based on a common
point of view. A rapport of this kind is by far the most frequent; it
rests on mutual projection, which later becomes the source of many misunderstandings.
["General Description of the Types," CW 6, par. 618.]

Rational. Descriptive of thoughts, feelings and actions that accord
with reason, an attitude based on objective values established by practical
experience. (Compare irrational.)

The rational attitude which permits us to declare objective
values as valid at all is not the work of the individual subject, but
the product of human history.
Most objective values-and reason itself-are firmly established complexes
of ideas handed down through the ages. Countless generations have laboured
at their organization with the same necessity with which the living organism
reacts to the average, constantly recurring environmental conditions,
confronting them with corresponding functional complexes, as the eye,
for instance, perfectly corresponds to the nature of light. . . . Thus
the laws of reason are the laws that designate and govern the average,
"correct," adapted attitude. Everything is "rational" that accords with
these laws, everything that contravenes them is "irrational."[Definitions,"
ibid., par. 785f.]

Jung described the psychological functions of thinking and feeling as rational
because they are decisively influenced by reflection.

Rebirth. A process experienced as a renewal or transformation
of the personality. (See also individuation.)

Rebirth is not a process that we can in any way observe. We
can neither measure nor weigh nor photograph it. It is entirely beyond
sense perception. . . . One speaks of rebirth; one professes rebirth;
one is filled with rebirth. . . . We have to be content with its psychic
reality.[Concerning Rebirth," CW 9i, par. 206.]

Jung distinguished between five different forms of rebirth: metempsychosis
(transmigration of souls), reincarnation (in a human body), resurrection,
psychological rebirth (individuation) and indirect change
that comes about through participation in the process of transformation.

Psychological rebirth was Jung's particular focus. Induced by ritual
or stimulated by immediate personal experience, it results in an enlargement
of the personality. He acknowledged that one might feel transformed during
certain group experiences, but he cautioned against confusing this with
genuine rebirth.

If any considerable group of persons are united and identified
with one another by a particular frame of mind, the resultant transformation
experience bears only a very remote resemblance to the experience of
individual transformation. A group experience takes place on a lower
level of consciousness than the experience of an individual. This is
due to the fact that, when many people gather together to share one
common emotion, the total psyche emerging from the group is below the
level of the individual psyche. If it is a very large group, the collective
psyche will be more like the psyche of an animal . . . .
. . . The group experience goes no deeper than the level of one's own
mind in that state. It does work a change in you, but the change does
not last.[Ibid., pars. 225f.]

Reductive. Literally, "leading back," descriptive of interpretations
of dreams and neurosis in terms of events in outer life, particularly
those in childhood. (Compare constructive and final.)

The reductive method is oriented backwards, in contrast to the
constructive method . . . . The interpretive methods of both Freud and
Adler are reductive, since in both cases there is a reduction to the elementary
processes of wishing or striving, which in the last resort are of an infantile
or physiological nature. . . . Reduction has a disintegrative effect on
the real significance of the unconscious product, since this is either
traced back to its historical antecedents [e.g., childhood] and thereby
annihilated, or integrated once again with the same elementary process
from which it arose.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 788.]

In dream interpretation, the reductive (also called mechanistic) method
seeks to explain images of persons and situations in terms of concrete reality.
The constructive or final approach focuses on the dream's symbolic content.

Although Jung himself concentrated on the constructive approach, he regarded
reductive analysis as an important first step in the treatment of psychological
problems, particularly in the first half of life.

The neuroses of the young generally come from a collision between
the forces of reality and an inadequate, infantile attitude, which from
the causal point of view is characterized by an abnormal dependence on
the real or imaginary parents, and from the teleological point of view
by unrealizable fictions, plans, and aspirations. Here the reductive methods
of Freud and Adler are entirely in place.[The Problem of
the Attitude-Type," CW 7, par. 88.]

Reflection. Mental activity that concentrates on a particular content
of consciousness, an instinct encompassing religion and the search for meaning.

Ordinarily we do not think of "reflection" as ever having been
instinctive, but associate it with a conscious state of mind. Reflexio
means "bending back" and, used psychologically, would denote the fact
that the reflex which carries the stimulus over into its instinctive discharge
is interfered with by psychization. . . . Thus in place of the compulsive
act there appears a certain degree of freedom, and in place of predictability
a relative unpredictability as to the effect of the impulse.["Psychological
Factors in Human Behaviour," CW 8, par. 241.]

In Jung's view, the richness of the human psyche and its essential character
are determined by the reflective instinct.

Reflection is the cultural instinct par excellence, and its
strength is shown in the power of culture to maintain itself in the face
of untamed nature.[ Ibid., par. 243. ]

Regression. The backward movement of libido to an earlier mode of
adaptation, often accompanied by infantile fantasies and wishes.
(See also depression; compare progression.)

Regression . . . as an adaptation to the conditions of the inner
world, springs from the vital need to satisfy the demands of individuation.["On
Psychic Energy," ibid., par. 75.]

What robs Nature of its glamour, and life of its joy, is the habit
of looking back for something that used to be outside, instead of looking
inside, into the depths of the depressive state. This looking back leads
to regression and is the first step along that path. Regression is also
an involuntary introversion in so far as the past is an object of memory
and therefore a psychic content, an endopsychic factor. It is a relapse
into the past caused by a depression in the present.[The
Sacrifice," CW 5, par. 625.]

Jung believed that the blockage of the forward movement of energy is due
to the inability of the dominant conscious attitude to adapt to changing
circumstances. However, the unconscious contents thereby activated contain
the seeds of a new progression. For instance, the opposite or inferior function
is waiting in the wings, potentially capable of modifying the inadequate
conscious attitude.

If thinking fails as the adapted function, because it is dealing
with a situation to which one can adapt only by feeling, then the unconscious
material activated by regression will contain the missing feeling function,
although still in embryonic form, archaic and undeveloped. Similarly,
in the opposite type, regression would activate a thinking function that
would effectively compensate the inadequate feeling. ["On
Psychic Energy," CW 8, par. 65.]

The regression of energy confronts us with the problem of our own psychology.
From the final point of view, therefore, regression is as necessary in the
developmental process as is progression.

Regarded causally, regression is determined, say, by a "mother
fixation." But from the final standpoint the libido regresses to the imago
of the mother in order to find there the memory associations by means
of which further development can take place, for instance from a sexual
system into an intellectual or spiritual system.
The first explanation exhausts itself in stressing the importance of the
cause and completely overlooks the final significance of the regressive
process. From this angle the whole edifice of civilization becomes a mere
substitute for the impossibility of incest. But the second explanation
allows us to foresee what will follow from the regression, and at the
same time it helps us to understand the significance of the memory-images
that have been reactivated.[ Ibid., pars. 43f. ]

Jung believed that behind the mundane symptoms of regression lay its symbolic
meaning: the need for psychological renewal, reflected in mythology as the
journey of the hero.

It is precisely the strongest and best among men, the heroes,
who give way to their regressive longing and purposely expose themselves
to the danger of being devoured by the monster of the maternal abyss.
But if a man is a hero, he is a hero because, in the final reckoning,
he did not let the monster devour him, but subdued it, not once but many
times. Victory over the collective psyche alone yields the true value-the
capture of the hoard, the invincible weapon, the magic talisman, or whatever
it be that the myth deems most desirable.[The Relations
between the Ego and the Unconscious," CW 7, par. 261.]

Regressive restoration of the persona. A term used to describe what
can happen when there has been a major collapse in the conscious attitude.

Take as an example a businessman who takes too great a risk
and consequently goes bankrupt. If he does not allow himself to be discouraged
by this depressing experience, but, undismayed, keeps his former daring,
perhaps with a little salutary caution added, his wound will be healed
without permanent injury. But if, on the other hand, he goes to pieces,
abjures all further risks, and laboriously tries to patch up his social
reputation within the confines of a much more limited personality, doing
inferior work with the mentality of a scared child, in a post far below
him, then, technically speaking, he will have restored his persona in
a regressive way. . . . Formerly perhaps he wanted more than he could
accomplish; now he does not even dare to attempt what he has it in him
to do.[ Ibid., par. 254.]

The regressive restoration of the persona is a possible course only
for the man who owes the critical failure of his life to his own inflatedness.
With diminished personality, he turns back to the measure he can fill.
But in every other case resignation and self-belittlement are an evasion,
which in the long run can be kept up only at the cost of neurotic sickliness.[Ibid.,
par. 259.]

We might say . . . that the term "religion" designates the attitude
peculiar to a consciousness which has been changed by experience of the
numinosum.["Psychology and Religion," CW 11, par. 9.]

Religion . . . is an instinctive attitude peculiar to man, and its
manifestations can be followed all through human history. ["The
Undiscovered Self," CW 10, par. 512.]

The religious attitude is quite different from faith associated with a specific
creed. The latter, as a codified and dogmatized form of an original religious
experience, simply gives expression to a particular collective belief. True
religion involves a subjective relationship to certain metaphysical, extramundane
factors.

A creed is a confession of faith intended chiefly for the world
at large and is thus an intramundane affair, while the meaning and purpose
of religion lie in the relationship of the individual to God (Christianity,
Judaism, Islam) or to the path of salvation and liberation (Buddhism).
[Ibid., par. 507.]

Jung believed that a neurosis in the second half of life is seldom cured
without the development of a religious attitude, prompted by a spontaneous
revelation of the spirit.

This spirit is an autonomous psychic happening, a hush that
follows the storm, a reconciling light in the darkness of man's mind,
secretly bringing order into the chaos of his soul. ["A
Psychological Approach to the Trinity," CW 11, par. 260.]

Repression. The unconscious suppression of psychic contents that
are incompatible with the attitude of consciousness.

Repression is a process that begins in early childhood under
the moral influence of the environment and continues through life.["The
Personal and the Collective Unconscious," CW 7, par. 202.]

Repression causes what is called a systematic amnesia, where
only specific memories or groups of ideas are withdrawn from recollection.
In such cases a certain attitude or tendency can be detected on the
part of the conscious mind, a deliberate intention to avoid even the
bare possibility of recollection, for the very good reason that it would
be painful or disagreeable [Analytical Psychology and
Education," CW 17, par. 199a.]

Repression is not only a factor in the etiology of many neuroses, it also
determines contents of the personal shadow, since the ego generally represses
material that would disturb peace of mind

In the course of development following puberty, consciousness
is confronted with affective tendencies, impulses, and fantasies which
for a variety of reasons it is not willing or not able to assimilate.
It then reacts with repression in various forms, in the effort to get
rid of the troublesome intruders. The general rule is that the more negative
the conscious attitude is, and the more it resists, devalues, and is afraid,
the more repulsive, aggressive, and frightening is the face which the
dissociated content assumes.["The Philosophical Tree," CW
13, par. 464.]

Many repressed contents come to the surface naturally during the analytic
process. Where there are strong resistances to uncovering repressed material,
Jung believed these should always be respected lest the ego be overwhelmed.

The general rule should be that the weakness of the conscious
attitude is proportional to the strength of the resistance. When, therefore,
there are strong resistances, the conscious rapport with the patient must
be carefully watched, and-in certain cases-his conscious attitude must
be supported to such a degree that, in view of later developments, one
would be bound to charge oneself with the grossest inconsistency. That
is inevitable, because one can never be too sure that the weak state of
the patient's conscious mind will prove equal to the subsequent assault
of the unconscious. In fact, one must go on supporting his conscious (or,
as Freud thinks, "repres-sive") attitude until the patient can let the
"repressed" contents rise up spontaneously.[The Psychology
of the Unconscious," CW 16, par. 381.]

Sacred marriage. See coniunctio.

Sacrifice. Psychologically, associated with the need to give up
the world of childhood, often signaled by the regression of energy.

One must give up the retrospective longing which only wants
to resuscitate the torpid bliss and effortlessness of childhood.[The
Sacrifice," CW 5, par. 643.]

For him who looks backwards the whole world, even the starry sky, becomes
the mother who bends over him and enfolds him on all sides, and from
the renunciation of this image, and of the longing for it, arises the
picture of the world as we know it today.[ Ibid., par.
646.]

Schizophrenia. See psychosis.

Self. The archetype of wholeness and the regulating center of
the psyche; a transpersonal power that transcends the ego.

As an empirical concept, the self designates the whole range
of psychic phenomena in man. It expresses the unity of the personality
as a whole. But in so far as the total personality, on account of its
unconscious component, can be only in part conscious, the concept of the
self is, in part, only potentially empirical and is to that extent
a postulate. In other words, it encompasses both the experienceable and
the inexperienceable (or the not yet experienced). . . . It is a transcendental
concept, for it presupposes the existence of unconscious factors on empirical
grounds and thus characterizes an entity that can be described only in
part.["Definitions," CW 6, par. 789.]

The self is not only the centre, but also the whole circumference which
embraces both conscious and unconscious; it is the centre of this totality,
just as the ego is the centre of consciousness. ["Introduction,"
CW 12, par. 44.]

Like any archetype, the essential nature of the self is unknowable, but
its manifestations are the content of myth and legend.

The self appears in dreams, myths, and fairytales in the figure
of the "supraordinate personality," such as a king, hero, prophet, saviour,
etc., or in the form of a totality symbol, such as the circle, square,
quadratura circuli, cross, etc. When it represents a complexio
oppositorum, a union of opposites, it can also appear as a united
duality, in the form, for instance, of tao as the interplay of
yang and yin, or of the hostile brothers, or of the hero
and his adversary (arch-enemy, dragon), Faust and Mephistopheles, etc.
Empirically, therefore, the self appears as a play of light and shadow,
although conceived as a totality and unity in which the opposites are
united.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 790.]

The realization of the self as an autonomous psychic factor is often stimulated
by the irruption of unconscious contents over which the ego has no control.
This can result in neurosis and a subsequent renewal of the personality,
or in an inflated identification with the greater power.

The ego cannot help discovering that the afflux of unconscious
contents has vitalized the personality, enriched it and created a figure
that somehow dwarfs the ego in scope and intensity. . . . Naturally, in
these circumstances there is the greatest temptation simply to follow
the power-instinct and to identify the ego with the self outright, in
order to keep up the illusion of the ego's mastery. . . . [But] the self
has a functional meaning only when it can act compensatorily to ego-consciousness.
If the ego is dissolved in identification with the self, it gives rise
to a sort of nebulous superman with a puffed-up ego.[On
the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 430.]

Experiences of the self possess a numinosity characteristic of religious
revelations. Hence Jung believed there was no essential difference between
the self as an experiential, psychological reality and the traditional concept
of a supreme deity.

It might equally be called the "God within us."[The
Mana-Personality," CW 7, par. 399.

Self-regulation of the psyche. A concept based on the compensatory
relationship between consciousness and the unconscious. (See also adaptation,
compensation, neurosis, opposites and transcendent function.)

The psyche does not merely react, it gives its own specific
answer to the influences at work upon it.[Some Crucial Points
in Psychoanalysis," CW 4, par. 665.]

The process of self-regulation is going on all the time within the psyche.
It only becomes noticeable when ego-consciousness has particular difficulty
in adapting to external or internal reality. That is often the start of
a process, proceeeding along the lines outlined in the chart, that may lead
to individuation.

6. Activation of the transcendent function, involving the self and archetypal
patterns of wholeness.

7. Formation of symbols (numinosity, synchronicity).

8. Transfer of energy between unconscious contents and consciousness.
Enlargement of the ego,
progression of energy.

9. Assimilation of unconscious contents. Individuation.

Consciousness and the unconscious seldom agree as to their contents and
their tendencies. The self-regulating activities of the psyche, manifest
in dreams, fantasies and synchronistic experiences, attempt to correct
any significant imbalance. According to Jung, this is necessary for several
reasons:

(1) Consciousness possesses a threshold intensity which its contents
must have attained, so that all elements that are too weak remain in the
unconscious.

(2) Consciousness, because of its directed functions, exercises an inhibition
(which Freud calls censorship) on all incompatible material, with the
result that it sinks into the unconscious.

(3) Consciousness constitutes the momentary process of adaptation, whereas
the unconscious contains not only all the forgotten material of the individual's
own past, but all the inherited behaviour traces constituting the structure
of the mind [i.e., archetypes].

(4) The unconscious contains all the fantasy combinations which have
not yet attained the threshold intensity, but which in the course of time
and under suitable conditions will enter the light of consciousness.["The
Transcendent Function," CW 8, par. 132.]

An attitude that seeks to do justice to the unconscious as well
as to one's fellow human beings cannot possibly rest on knowledge alone,
in so far as this consists merely of thinking and intuition. It would
lack the function that perceives values, i.e., feeling, as well as the
fonction du réel, i.e., sensation, the sensible perception
of reality. ["the Psychology of the Transference," CW 16,
par.486.]

In Jung's model of typology, sensation, like intuition, is an irrational
function. It perceives concrete facts, with no judgment of what they mean
or what they are worth.

Sensation must be strictly differentiated from feeling, since
the latter is an entirely different process, although it may associate
itself with sensation as "feeling-tone." Sensation is related not only
to external stimuli but to inner ones, i.e., to changes in the internal
organic processes.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 792.]

Jung also distinguished between sensuous or concrete sensation and abstract
sensation.

Concrete sensation never appears in "pure" form, but is always
mix-ed up with ideas, feelings, thoughts. . . . The concrete sensation
of a flower . . . conveys a perception not only of the flower as such,
but also of the stem, leaves, habitat, and so on. It is also instantly
mingled with feeling of pleasure or dislike which the sight of the flower
evokes, or with simultaneous olfactory perceptions, or with thoughts about
its botanical classification, etc. But abstract sensation immediately
picks out the most salient sensuous attribute of the flower, its brilliant
redness, for instance, and makes this the sole or at least the principle
content of consciousness, entirely detached from all other admixtures.
Abstract sensation is found chiefly among artists. Like every abstraction,
it is a product of functional differentiation.[Ibid., par.
794.]

Shadow. Hidden or unconscious aspects of oneself, both good and bad,
which the ego has either repressed or never recognized. (See also repression.)

The shadow is a moral problem that challenges the whole ego-personality,
for no one can become conscious of the shadow without considerable moral
effort. To become conscious of it involves recognizing the dark aspects
of the personality as present and real. ["The Shadow," CW
9ii, par. 14.]

Before unconscious contents have been differentiated, the shadow is in effect
the whole of the unconscious. It is commonly personified in dreams by persons
of the same sex as the dreamer.

The shadow is composed for the most part of repressed desires and uncivilized
impulses, morally inferior motives, childish fantasies and resentments,
etc.--all those things about oneself one is not proud of. These unacknowledged
personal characteristics are often experienced in others through the mechanism
of projection.

Although, with insight and good will, the shadow can to some
extent be assimilated into the conscious personality, experience shows
that there are certain features which offer the most obstinate resistance
to moral control and prove almost impossible to influence. These resistances
are usually bound up with projections, which are not recognized as such,
and their recognition is a moral achievement beyond the ordinary. While
some traits peculiar to the shadow can be recognized without too much
difficulty as one's personal qualities, in this case both insight and
good will are unavailing because the cause of the emotion appears to lie,
beyond all possibility of doubt, in the other person.[Ibid.,
par. 16.]

The realization of the shadow is inhibited by the persona. To the degree
that we identify with a bright persona, the shadow is correspondingly dark.
Thus shadow and persona stand in a compensatory relationship, and the conflict
between them is invariably present in an outbreak of neurosis. The characteristic
depression at such times indicates the need to realize that one is not all
one pretends or wishes to be.

There is no generally effective technique for assimilating the shadow.
It is more like diplomacy or statesmanship and it is always an individual
matter. First one has to accept and take seriously the existence of the
shadow. Second, one has to become aware of its qualities and intentions.
This happens through conscientious attention to moods, fantasies and impulses.
Third, a long process of negotiation is unavoidable.

It is a therapeutic necessity, indeed, the first requisite of
any thorough psychological method, for consciousness to confront its shadow.
In the end this must lead to some kind of union, even though the union
consists at first in an open conflict, and often remains so for a long
time. It is a struggle that cannot be abolished by rational means. When
it is wilfully repressed it continues in the unconscious and merely expresses
itself indirectly and all the more dangerously, so no advantage is gained.
The struggle goes on until the opponents run out of breath. What the outcome
will be can never be seen in advance. The only certain thing is that both
parties will be changed.["Rex and Regina," CW 14, par. 514.]

This process of coming to terms with the Other in us is well worth
while, because in this way we get to know aspects of our nature which
we would not allow anybody else to show us and which we ourselves would
never have admitted.[The Conjunction," ibid., par. 706.]

Responsibility for the shadow rests with the ego. That is why the shadow
is a moral problem. It is one thing to realize what it looks like-what we
are capable of. It is quite something else to determine what we can live
out, or with.

Confrontation with the shadow produces at first a dead balance,
a standstill that hampers moral decisions and makes convictions ineffective
or even impossible. Everything becomes doubtful.[Ibid.,
par. 708.]

The shadow is not, however, only the dark underside of the personality.
It also consists of instincts, abilities and positive moral qualities that
have long been buried or never been conscious.

The shadow is merely somewhat inferior, primitive, unadapted,
and awkward; not wholly bad. It even contains childish or primitive qualities
which would in a way vitalize and embellish human existence, but-convention
forbids![Psychology and Religion," CW 11, par. 134.]

If it has been believed hitherto that the human shadow was the source
of all evil, it can now be ascertained on closer investigation that
the unconscious man, that is, his shadow, does not consist only of morally
reprehensible tendencies, but also displays a number of good qualities,
such as normal instincts, appropriate reactions, realistic insights,
creative impulses, etc.[Conclusion," CW 9ii, par. 423.]

An outbreak of neurosis constellates both sides of the shadow: those qualities
and activities one is not proud of, and new possibilities one never knew
were there.

Jung distinguished between the personal and the collective or archetypal
shadow.

With a little self-criticism one can see through the shadow-so
far as its nature is personal. But when it appears as an archetype, one
encounters the same difficulties as with anima and animus. In other words,
it is quite within the bounds of possibility for a man to recognize the
relative evil of his nature, but it is a rare and shattering experience
for him to gaze into the face of absolute evil.["The Shadow,"
ibid., par. 19.]

Soul. A functional complex in the psyche. (See also Eros, Logos
and soul-image.)
While Jung often used the word soul in its traditional theological sense,
he strictly limited its psychological meaning.

I have been compelled, in my investigations into the structure
of the unconscious, to make a conceptual distinction between soul
and psyche. By psyche I understand the totality of all psychic
processes, conscious as well as unconscious. By soul, on the other hand,
I understand a clearly demarcated functional complex that can best be
described as a "personality." [Definitions," CW 6, par.
797]

With this understanding, Jung outlined partial manifestations of the soul
in terms of anima/animus and persona. In his later writing on the transference,
informed by his study of the alchemical opus-which Jung understood as psychologically
analogous to the individuation process--he was more specific.

The "soul" which accrues to ego-consciousness during the opus
has a feminine character in the man and a masculine character in a woman.
His anima wants to reconcile and unite; her animus tries to discern and
discriminate.[The Psychology of the Transference," CW 16,
par. 522.]

Soul-image. The representation, in dreams or other products of the
unconscious, of the inner personality, usually contrasexual. (See also anima
and animus.)

Wherever an impassioned, almost magical, relationship exists
between the sexes, it is invariably a question of a projected soul-image.
Since these relationships are very common, the soul must be unconscious
just as frequently.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 809. ]

The soul-image is a specific archetypal image produced by the unconscious,
commonly experienced in projection onto a person of the opposite sex.

For an idealistic woman, a depraved man is often the bearer
of the soul-image; hence the "saviour-fantasy" so frequent in such cases.
The same thing happens with men, when the prostitute is surrounded with
the halo of a soul crying for succour.[ Ibid., par. 811.]

Where consciousness itself is identified with the soul, the soul-image is
more likely to be an aspect of the persona.

In that event, the persona, being unconscious, will be projected
on a person of the same sex, thus providing a foundation for many cases
of open or latent homosexuality, and of father-transferences in men or
mother-transferences in women. In such cases there is always a defective
adaptation to external reality and a lack of relatedness, because identification
with the soul produces an attitude predominantly oriented to the perception
of inner processes.[Ibid., par. 809.]

Many relationships begin and initially thrive on the basis of projected
soul-images. Inherently symbiotic, they often end badly.

Spirit. An archetype and a functional complex, often personified
and experienced as enlivening, analogous to what the archaic mind
felt to be an invisible, breathlike "presence."

Spirit, like God, denotes an object of psychic experience which
cannot be proved to exist in the external world and cannot be understood
rationally. This is its meaning if we use the word "spirit" in its best
sense.[Spirit and Life," CW 8, par. 626.]

The archetype of spirit in the shape of a man, hobgoblin, or animal
always appears in a situation where insight, understanding, good advice,
determination, planning, etc., are needed but cannot be mustered on
one's own resources. The archetype compensates this state of spiritual
deficiency by contents designed to fill the gap.["The
Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales," CW 9i, par. 398.]

Jung was careful to distinguish between spirit as a psychological concept
and its traditional use in religion.

From the psychological point of view, the phenomenon of spirit,
like every autonomous complex, appears as an intention of the unconscious
superior to, or at least on a par with, intentions of the ego. If we are
to do justice to the essence of the thing we call spirit, we should really
speak of a "higher" consciousness rather than of the unconscious. ["Spirit
and Life," CW 8, par. 643.]

The common modern idea of spirit ill accords with the Christian view,
which regards it as the summum bonum, as God himself. To be sure,
there is also the idea of an evil spirit. But the modern idea cannot
be equated with that either, since for us spirit is not necessarily
evil; we would have to call it morally indifferent or neutral.[The
Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales," CW 9i, par. 394.]

Splitting. A term used to describe the dissociation of the
personality, marked by attitudes and behavior patterns determined by complexes.
(See also neurosis.)

Although this peculiarity is most clearly observable in psychopathology,
fundamentally it is a normal phenomenon, which can be recognized with
the greatest ease in the projections made by the primitive psyche. The
tendency to split means that parts of the psyche detach themselves from
consciousness to such an extent that they not only appear foreign but
lead an autonomous life of their own. It need not be a question of hysterical
multiple personality, or schizophrenic alterations of personality, but
merely of so-called "complexes" that come entirely within the scope of
the normal. ["Psychological Factors in Human Behaviour,"
CW 8, par. 253].

Subjective level. The approach to dreams and other images where the
persons or situations pictured are seen as symbolic representations of factors
belonging entirely to the subject's own psyche. (Compare objective level.)

Interpretation of an unconscious product on the subjective level
reveals the presence of subjective judgments and tendencies of which the
object is made the vehicle. When, therefore, an object-imago appears in
an unconscious product, it is not on that account the image of a real
object; it is far more likely that we are dealing with a subjective functional
complex. Interpretation on the subjective level allows us to take a broader
psychological view not only of dreams but also of literary works, in which
the individual figures then appear as representatives of relatively autonomous
functional complexes in the psyche of the author.[Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 813.]

In the analytic process, the main task after the reductive interpretation
of images thrown up by the unconscious is to understand what they say about
oneself.

To establish a really mature attitude, he has to see the subjective
value of all these images which seem to create trouble for him. He has
to assimilate them into his own psychology; he has to find out in what
way they are part of himself; how he attributes for instance a positive
value to an object, when as a matter of fact it is he who could
and should develop this value. And in the same way, when he projects negative
qualities and therefore hates and loathes the object, he has to discover
that he is projecting his own inferior side, his shadow, as it were, because
he prefers to have an optimistic and one-sided image of himself.[Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 813.]

Subjective psyche. See personal unconscious.

Subtle body. The somatic unconscious, a transcendental concept
involving the relationship between mind and body.

The part of the unconscious which is designated as the subtle
body becomes more and more identical with the functioning of the body,
and therefore it grows darker and darker and ends in the utter darkness
of matter. . . . Somewhere our unconscious becomes material, because the
body is the living unit, and our conscious and our unconscious are embedded
in it: they contact the body. Somewhere there is a place where the two
ends meet and become interlocked. And that is the [subtle body] where
one cannot say whether it is matter, or what one calls "psyche."[
Nietzsche's Zarathustra, vol. 1, p. 441.]

Superior function. See primary function.

Supraordinate personality. An aspect of the psyche superior to,
and transcending, the ego. (See also self.)

The "supraordinate personality" is the total man, i.e., man
as he really is, not as he appears to himself. . . . I usually describe
the supraordinate personality as the "self," thus making a sharp distinction
between the ego, which, as is well known, extends only as far as the conscious
mind, and the whole of the personality, which includes the unconscious
as well as the conscious component. The ego is thus related to the self
as part to whole. To that extent the self is supraordinate.[The
Psychological Aspects of the Kore," CW 9i, pars. 314f.]

Symbiosis. A psychological state where contents of one's personal
unconscious are experienced in another person. (See also projection
and soul-image.)

Symbiosis manifests in unconscious interpersonal bonds, easily established
and difficult to break. Jung gave an example in terms of introversion
and extraversion. Where one of these attitudes is dominant, the other,
being unconscious, is automatically projected.

Either type has a predilection to marry its opposite, each being
unconsciously complementary to the other. . . . The one takes care of
reflection and the other sees to the initiative and practical action.
When the two types marry, they may effect an ideal union. So long as they
are fully occupied with their adaptation to the manifold external needs
of life they fit together admirably.["The Problem of the
Attitude-Type," CW 7, par. 80.]

Problems in such relationships typically surface only later in life, accompanied
by strong affect.

When the man has made enough money, or if a fine legacy should
drop from the skies and external necessity no longer presses, then they
have time to occupy themselves with one another. Hitherto they stood back
to back and defended themselves against necessity. But now they turn face
to face and look for understanding-only to discover that they have never
understood one another. Each speaks a different language. Then the conflict
between the two types begins. This struggle is envenomed, brutal, full
of mutual depreciation, even when conducted quietly and in the greatest
intimacy. For the value of the one is the negation of value for the other.[Ibid.]

The ending of a symbiotic relationship often precipitates an outbreak of
neurosis, stimulated by an inner need to assimilate those aspects of oneself
that were projected onto the partner.

Symbol. The best possible expression for something unknown. (See
also constructive and final.)

Every psychological expression is a symbol if we assume that
it states or signifies something more and other than itself which eludes
our present knowledge.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 817.]

Jung distinguished between a symbol and a sign. Insignia on uniforms, for
instance, are not symbols but signs that identify the wearer. In dealing
with unconscious material (dreams, fantasies, etc.), the images can be interpreted
semiotically, as symptomatic signs pointing to known or knowable facts,
or symbolically, as expressing something essentially unknown.

The interpretation of the cross as a symbol of divine love is
semiotic, because "divine love" describes the fact to be expressed better
and more aptly than a cross, which can have many other meanings. On the
other hand, an interpretation of the cross is symbolic when it
puts the cross beyond all conceivable explanations, regarding it as expressing
an as yet unknown and incomprehensible fact of a mystical or transcendent,
i.e., psychological, nature, which simply finds itself most appropriately
represented in the cross.[ Ibid., par. 815.]

Whether something is interpreted as a symbol or a sign depends mainly on
the attitude of the observer. Jung linked the semiotic and symbolic approaches,
respectively, to the causal and final points of view. He acknowledged the
importance of both.

Psychic development cannot be accomplished by intention and
will alone; it needs the attraction of the symbol, whose value quantum
exceeds that of the cause. But the formation of a symbol cannot take place
until the mind has dwelt long enough on the elementary facts, that is
to say until the inner or outer necessities of the life-process have brought
about a transformation of energy.["On Psychic Energy," CW
8, par. 47.]

The symbolic attitude is at bottom constructive, in that it gives priority
to understanding the meaning or purpose of psychological phenomena, rather
than seeking a reductive explanation.

There are, of course, neurotics who regard their unconscious
products, which are mostly morbid symptoms, as symbols of supreme importance.
Generally, however, this is not what happens. On the contrary, the neurotic
of today is only too prone to regard a product that may actually be full
of significance as a mere "symptom.[Definitions, CW 6, par.
821.]

Jung's primary interest in symbols lay in their ability to transform and
redirect instinctive energy.

How are we to explain religious processes, for instance, whose
nature is essentially symbolical? In abstract form, symbols are religious
ideas; in the form of action, they are rites or ceremonies. They are the
manifestation and expression of excess libido. At the same time they are
stepping-stones to new activities, which must be called cultural in order
to distinguish them from the instinctual functions that run their regular
course according to natural law.["On Psychic Energy," CW
8, par. 91.]

The formation of symbols is going on all the time within the psyche, appearing
in fantasies and dreams. In analysis, after reductive explanations have
been exhausted, symbol-formation is reinforced by the constructive approach.
The aim is to make instinctive energy available for meaningful work and
a productive life.

Synchronicity. A phenomenon where an event in the outside world
coincides meaningfully with a psychological state of mind.

Synchronicity . . . consists of two factors: a) An unconscious
image comes into consciousness either directly (i.e., literally) or indirectly
(symbolized or suggested) in the form of a dream, idea, or premonition.
b) An objective situation coincides with this content. The one is as puzzling
as the other.["Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle,"
ibid., par. 858.]

Jung associated synchronistic experiences with the relativity of space and
time and a degree of unconsciousness.

The very diverse and confusing aspects of these phenomena are,
so far as I can see at present, completely explicable on the assumption
of a psychically relative space-time continuum. As soon as a psychic content
crosses the threshold of consciousness, the synchronistic marginal phenomena
disappear, time and space resume their accustomed sway, and consciousness
is once more isolated in its subjectivity. . . . Conversely, synchronistic
phenomena can be evoked by putting the subject into an unconscious state.[On
the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 440.]

Synchronicity was defined by Jung as an "acausal connecting principle,"
an essentially mysterious connection between the personal psyche and the
material world, based on the fact that at bottom they are only different
forms of energy.

It is not only possible but fairly probable, even, that psyche
and matter are two different aspects of one and the same thing. The synchronicity
phenomena point, it seems to me, in this direction, for they show that
the nonpsychic can behave like the psychic, and vice versa, without there
being any causal connection between them.[Ibid., par. 418.]

Synthetic. See constructive.

Temenos. A Greek word meaning a sacred, protected space; psychologically,
descriptive of both a personal container and the sense of privacy that
surrounds an analytical relationship.

Jung believed that the need to establish or preserve a temenos is often
indicated by drawings or dream images of a quaternary nature, such as
mandalas.

The symbol of the mandala has exactly this meaning of a holy
place, a temenos, to protect the centre. And it is a symbol which
is one of the most important motifs in the objectivation of unconscious
images. It is a means of protecting the centre of the personality from
being drawn out and from being influenced from outside.["The
Tavistock Lectures," CW 18, par. 410.]

Tertium non datur. The reconciling "third," not logically foreseeable,
characteristic of a resolution in a conflict situation when the tension
between opposites has been held in consciousness. (See also transcendent
function.)

As a rule it occurs when the analysis has constellated the opposites
so powerfully that a union or synthesis of the personality becomes an
imperative necessity. . . . [This situation] requires a real solution
and necessitates a third thing in which the opposites can unite. Here
the logic of the intellect usually fails, for in a logical antithesis
there is no third. The "solvent" can only be of an irrational nature.
In nature the resolution of opposites is always an energic process: she
acts symbolically in the truest sense of the word, doing something
that expresses both sides, just as a waterfall visibly mediates between
above and below.[The Conjunction," CW 14, par. 705.]

Thinking. The mental process of interpreting what is perceived. (Compare
feeling.)

In Jung's model of typology, thinking is one of the four functions used
for psychological orientation. Along with feeling, it is a rational function.
If thinking is the primary function, then feeling is automatically the
inferior function.

Thinking, if it is to be real thinking and true to its own principle,
must rigorously exclude feeling. This, of course, does not do away with
the the fact that there are individuals whose thinking and feeling are
on the same level, both being of equal motive power for consciousness.
But in these cases there is also no question of a differentiated type,
but merely of relatively undeveloped thinking and feeling.["General
Description of the Types," CW 6, par. 667.]

As a process of apperception, thinking may be active or passive.

Active thinking is an act of the will, passive thinking
is a mere occurrence. In the former case, I submit the contents of ideation
to a voluntary act of judgment; in the latter, conceptual connections
establish themselves of their own accord, and judgments are formed that
may even contradict my intention. . . . Active thinking, accordingly,
would correspond to my concept of directed thinking. Passive thinking
. . . I would call . . . intuitive thinking.["Definitions,"
ibid., par. 830.]

The capacity for directed thinking I call intellect; the capacity
for passive or undirected thinking I call intellectual intuition.[Ibid.,
par. 832.]

Transcendent function. A psychic function that arises from the tension
between consciousness and the unconscious and supports their union. (See
also opposites and tertium non datur.)

When there is full parity of the opposites, attested by the
ego's absolute participation in both, this necessarily leads to a suspension
of the will, for the will can no longer operate when every motive has
an equally strong countermotive. Since life cannot tolerate a standstill,
a damming up of vital energy results, and this would lead to an insupportable
condition did not the tension of opposites produce a new, uniting function
that transcends them. This function arises quite naturally from the regression
of libido caused by the blockage.[Ibid., par. 824.]

The tendencies of the conscious and the unconscious are the two factors
that together make up the transcendent function. It is called "transcendent"
because it makes the transition from one attitude to another organically
possible.[The Transcendent Function," CW 8, par. 145.]

In a conflict situation, or a state of depression for which there is no
apparent reason, the development of the transcendent function depends on
becoming aware of unconscious material. This is most readily available in
dreams, but because they are so difficult to understand Jung considered
the method of active imagination-giving "form" to dreams, fantasies, etc.--to
be more useful.

Once the unconscious content has been given form and the meaning
of the formulation is understood, the question arises as to how the ego
will relate to this position, and how the ego and the unconscious are
to come to terms. This is the second and more important stage of the procedure,
the bringing together of opposites for the production of a third: the
transcendent function. At this stage it is no longer the unconscious that
takes the lead, but the ego.[Ibid., par. 181.]

This process requires an ego that can maintain its standpoint in face of
the counterposition of the unconscious. Both are of equal value. The confrontation
between the two generates a tension charged with energy and creates a living,
third essence.

From the activity of the unconscious there now emerges a new
content, constellated by thesis and antithesis in equal measure and standing
in a compensatory relation to both. It thus forms the middle ground on
which the opposites can be united. If, for instance, we conceive the opposition
to be sensuality versus spirituality, then the mediatory content born
out of the unconscious provides a welcome means of expression for the
spiritual thesis, because of its rich spiritual associations, and also
for the sensual antithesis, because of its sensuous imagery. The ego,
however, torn between thesis and antithesis, finds in the middle ground
its own counterpart, its sole and unique means of expression, and it eagerly
seizes on this in order to be delivered from its division.["Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 825.]

The transcendent function is essentially an aspect of the self-regulation
of the psyche. It typically manifests symbolically and is experienced as
a new attitude toward oneself and life.

If the mediatory product remains intact, it forms the raw material
for a process not of dissolution but of construction, in which thesis
and antithesis both play their part. In this way it becomes a new content
that governs the whole attitude, putting an end to the division and forcing
the energy of the opposites into a common channel. The standstill is overcome
and life can flow on with renewed power towards new goals.[Ibid.,
par. 827.]

Transference. A particular case of projection, used to describe
the unconscious, emotional bond that arises in the analysand toward the
analyst. (See also countertransference.)

Unconscious contents are invariably projected at first upon
concrete persons and situations. Many projections can ultimately be integrated
back into the individual once he has recognized their subjective origin;
others resist integration, and although they may be detached from their
original objects, they thereupon transfer themselves to the doctor. Among
these contents the relation to the parent of opposite sex plays an important
part, i.e., the relation of son to mother, daughter to father, and also
that of brother to sister.["The Psychology of the Transference,"
CW 16, par. 357.]

Once the projections are recognized as such, the particular form of
rapport known as the transference is at an end, and the problem of individual
relationship begins.[The Therapeutic Value of Abreaction,"
ibid., par. 287.]

A transference may be either positive or negative; the former is marked
by feelings of affection and respect, the latter by hostility and resistance.

For one type of person (called the infantile-rebel) a positive
transference is, to begin with, an important achievement with a healing
significance; for the other (the infantile-obedient) it is a dangerous
backsliding, a convenient way of evading life's duties. For the first
a negative transference denotes increased insubordination, hence a backsliding
and an evasion of life's duties, for the second it is a step forward with
a healing significance. ["Some Crucial Points in Psychoanalysis,"
CW 4, par. 659.]

Jung did not regard the transference merely as a projection of infantile-erotic
fantasies. Though these may be present at the beginning of analysis, they
can be dissolved through the reductive method. Then the purpose of the transference
becomes the main issue and guide.

An exclusively sexual interpretation of dreams and fantasies
is a shocking violation of the patient's psychological material: infantile-sexual
fantasy is by no means the whole story, since the material also contains
a creative element, the purpose of which is to shape a way out of the
neurosis.["The Therapeutic Value of Abreaction," CW 16,
par. 277.]

Although Jung made contradictory statements about the therapeutic importance
of the transference--for instance:

The transference phenomenon is an inevitable feature of every
thorough analysis, for it is imperative that the doctor should get into
the closest possible touch with the patient's line of psychological development.[Ibid.,
par. 283.]

We do not work with the "transference to the analyst," but against
it and in spite of it.["Some
Crucial Points in Psychoanalysis," CW 4, par. 601.]

A transference is always a hindrance; it is never an advantage.["The
Tavistock Lectures," CW 18, par. 349.]

Medical treatment of the transference gives the patient a priceless
opportunity to withdraw his projections, to make good his losses, and
to integrate his personality.[The Psychology of the Transference,"
CW 16, par. 420.]

--he did not doubt its significance when it was present.

The suitably trained analyst mediates the transcendent function
for the patient, i.e., helps him to bring conscious and unconscious together
and so arrive at a new attitude. . . . The patient clings by means of
the transference to the person who seems to promise him a renewal of attitude;
through it he seeks this change, which is vital to him, even though he
may not be conscious of doing so. For the patient, therefore, the analyst
has the character of an indispensable figure absolutely necessary for
life.["The Transcendent Function," CW 8, par. 146.]

Whatever is unconscious in the analysand and needed for healthy functioning
is projected onto the analyst. This includes archetypal images of wholeness,
with the result that the analyst takes on the stature of a mana-personality.
The analysand's task is then to understand such images on the subjective
level, a primary aim being to constellate the patient's own inner analyst.

Empathy is an important purposive element in the transference. By means
of empathy the analysand attempts to emulate the presumably healthier
attitude of the analyst, and thereby to attain a better level of adaptation.

The patient is bound to the analyst by ties of affection or
resistance and cannot help following and imitating his psychic attitude.
By this means he feels his way along (empathy). And with the best will
in the world and for all his technical skill the analyst cannot prevent
it, for empathy works surely and instinctively in spite of conscious judgment,
be it never so strong.["Some Crucial Points in Psychoanalysis,"
CW 4, par. 661.]

Jung believed that analyzing the transference was extremely important in
order to return projected contents necessary for the individuation of the
analysand. But he pointed out that even after projections have been withdrawn
there remains a strong connection between the two parties. This is because
of an instinctive factor that has few outlets in modern society: kinship
libido.

Everyone is now a stranger among strangers. Kinship libido-which
could still engender a satisfying feeling of belonging together, as for
instance in the early Christian communities-has long been deprived of
its object. But, being an instinct, it is not to be satisfied by any mere
substitute such as a creed, party, nation, or state. It wants the human
connection. That is the core of the whole transference phenomenon, and
it is impossible to argue it away, because relationship to the self is
at once relationship to our fellow man, and no one can be related to the
latter until he is related to himself.["The Psychology of
the Transference," CW 16, par. 445.]

Transformation. See rebirth.

Trauma. An intense emotional shock, often accompanied by re-pression
and a splitting of the personality. (See abreaction).

Treasure hard to attain. Broadly, a reference to aspects of self-knowledge
necessary for psychological individuality; specifically, a metaphor
for the goal of individuation, a good working relationship with
the self.

[The trickster] is a forerunner of the saviour . . . . He is
both subhuman and superhuman, a bestial and divine being, whose chief
and most alarming characteristic is his unconsciousness.["On
the Psychology of the Trickster-Figure," CW 9i, par. 472],

The so-called civilized man has forgotten the trickster. He remembers
him only figuratively and metaphorically, when, irritated by his own
ineptitude, he speaks of fate playing tricks on him or of things being
bewitched. He never suspects that his own hidden and apparently harmless
shadow has qualities whose dangerousness exceeds his wildest dreams.[
Ibid., par. 478.]

Type. A characteristic general attitude or function.

[The] function-types, which one can call the thinking,
feeling, sensation, and intuitive types, may be divided into two classes
according to the quality of the basic function, i.e., into the rational
and the irrational. The thinking and feeling types belong to the former
class, the sensation and intuitive types to the latter. A further division
into two classes is permitted by the predominant trend of the movement
of libido, namely introversion and extraversion.["Definitions,"
CW 6, par. 835.]

Jung believed that the early distortion of type due to parental or other
environmental influences can lead to neurosis in later life.

As a rule, whenever such a falsification of type takes place
. . . the individual becomes neurotic later, and can be cured only by
developing the attitude consonant with his nature.["General
Description of the Types," ibid., par. 560.]

Typology. A system in which individual attitudes and behavior patterns
are categorized in an attempt to explain the differences between people.

Jung's model of typology grew out of an extensive historical review of
the type question in literature, mythology, aesthetics, philosophy and
psychopathology. Whereas earlier classifications were based on observations
of temperamental or physiological behavior patterns, Jung's model is concerned
with the movement of energy and the way in which one habitually or preferentially
orients oneself in the world.

First and foremost, it is a critical tool for the research worker,
who needs definite points of view and guidelines if he is to reduce the
chaotic profusion of individual experiences to any kind of order. . .
. Secondly, a typology is a great help in understanding the wide variations
that occur among individuals, and it also furnishes a clue to the fundamental
differences in the psychological theories now current. Last but not least,
it is an essential means for determining the "personal equation" of the
practising psychologist, who, armed with an exact knowledge of his differentiated
and inferior functions, can avoid many serious blunders in dealing with
his patients.["Psychological Typology," ibid., par. 986.]

Jung differentiated eight typological groups: two personality attitudes-introversion
and extraversion-and four functions-thinking, sensation, intuition and feeling,
each of which may operate in an introverted or extraverted way.

Introversion and extraversion are psychological modes of adaptation.
In the former, the movement of energy is toward the inner world. In the
latter, interest is directed toward the outer world. In one case the subject
(inner reality) and in the other the object (things and other people,
outer reality) is of primary importance.

[Introversion] is normally characterized by a hesitant, reflective,
retiring nature that keeps itself to itself, shrinks from objects, is
always slightly on the defensive and prefers to hide behind mistrustful
scru-tiny. [Extraversion] is normally characterized by an outgoing, candid,
and accommodating nature that adapts easily to a given situation, quickly
forms attachments, and, setting aside any possible misgivings, will often
venture forth with careless confidence into unknown situations. In the
first case obviously the subject, and in the second the object, is all-important.["The
Problem of the Attitude-Type," CW 7, par. 62. ]

The crucial factor in determining whether one is introverted or extraverted,
as opposed to which attitude is currently operative, is not what one does
but rather the motivation for doing it-the direction in which one's energy
naturally, and usually, flows.

Whether a person is predominantly introverted or extraverted only becomes
apparent in association with one of the four functions, each with its
special area of expertise: thinking refers to the process of cognitive
thought, sensation is perception by means of the physical sense organs,
feeling is the function of subjective judgment or valuation, and intuition
refers to perception via the unconscious.

Briefly, the sensation function establishes that something exists, thinking
tells us what it means, feeling tells us what it's worth, and through
intuition we have a sense of its possibilities.

In this way we can orient ourselves with respect to the immediate
world as completely as when we locate a place geographically by latitude
and longitude. The four functions are somewhat like the four points of
the compass; they are just as arbitrary and just as indispen-sable. Nothing
prevents our shifting the cardinal points as many degrees as we like in
one direction or the other, or giving them differ-ent names. It is merely
a question of convention and intelligibility.
But one thing I must confess: I would not for anything dispense with this
compass on my psychological voyages of discovery.["A Psychological
Theory of Types," CW 6, pars. 958f.]ß

Jung's basic model, including the relationship between the four functions,
is a quaternity, as shown in the diagram. (Thinking is here arbitrarily
placed at the top; any of the other functions might be placed there, according
to which one a person most favors.)

Jung believed that any one function by itself is not sufficient for ordering
our experience of ourselves or the world around us; all four are required
for a comprehensive understanding.

For complete orientation all four functions should contribute
equally: thinking should facilitate cognition and judgment, feeling should
tell us how and to what extent a thing is important or unimportant for
us, sensation should convey concrete reality to us through seeing, hearing,
tasting, etc., and intuition should enable us to divine the hidden possibilities
in the background, since these too belong to the complete picture of a
given situation.[Psychological Types," ibid., par. 900.]
Jung acknowledged that the four orienting functions do not contain
everything in the conscious psyche. Will power and memory, for instance,
are not included, because although they may be affected by the way one
functions typologically, they are not in themselves typological determinants.]

The ideal is to have conscious access to the function or functions appropriate
for particular circumstances, but in practice the four functions are not
equally at the disposal of consciousness. One is invariably more differentiated,
called the superior or primary function. The function opposite to the primary
function is called the fourth or inferior function.

The terms "superior" and "inferior" in this context do not imply value
judgments. No function is any better than any of the others. The superior
function is simply the most developed, the one a person is most likely
to use; similarly, inferior does not mean pathological but merely less
used compared to the favored function. Moreover, the constant influx of
unconscious contents into consciousness is such that it is often difficult
for oneself, let alone an outside observer, to tell which functions belong
to the conscious personality and which to the unconscious.

Generally speaking, a judging observer [thinking or feeling
type] will tend to seize on the conscious character, while a perceptive
observer [sensation type or intuitive] will be more influenced by the
unconscious character, since judgment is chiefly concerned with the conscious
motivation of the psychic process, while perception registers the process
itself.["General Description of the Types," ibid., par.
576.]

What happens to those functions that are not consciously brought into daily
use and therefore not developed?

They remain in a more or less primitive and infantile state,
often only half conscious, or even quite unconscious. The relatively undeveloped
functions constitute a specific inferiority which is characteristic of
each type and is an integral part of his total character. The one-sided
emphasis on thinking is always accompanied by an inferiority of feeling,
and differentiated sensation is injurious to intuition and vice versa.[A
Psychological Theory of Types," ibid., par. 955.]

Jung described two of the four functions as rational (or judging) and two
as irrational (or perceiving).
Thinking, as a function of logical discrimination, is rational. So is feeling,
which as a way of evaluating our likes and dislikes can be quite as discriminating
as thinking. Both are based on a reflective, linear process that coalesces
into a particular judgment. Sensation and intuition are called irrational
functions because they do not depend on logic. Each is a way of perceiving
simply what is: sensation sees what is in the external world, intuition
sees (or "picks up") what is in the inner world.

Besides the primary function, there is often a second, and sometimes
a third, auxiliary function that exerts a co-determining influence on
consciousness. This is always one whose nature, rational or irrational,
is different from the primary function.

Jung's model of typology is the basis for modern type tests, such as
the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) and the Singer-Loomis Personality
Profile, used in organizational settings.

Unconscious. The totality of all psychic phenomena that lack the
quality of consciousness. (See also collective unconscious and
personal unconscious.)

The unconscious . . . is the source of the instinctual forces
of the psyche and of the forms or categories that regulate them, namely
the archetypes.[The Structure of the Psyche," CW 8, par.
342.]

The concept of the unconscious is for me an exclusively psychological
concept, and not a philosophical concept of a metaphysical nature.
In my view the unconscious is a psychological borderline concept, which
covers all psychic contents or processes that are not conscious, i.e.,
not related to the ego in any perceptible way. My justification for
speaking of the existence of unconscious processes at all is derived
simply and solely from experience.[Definitions," CW 6,
par. 837.]

The unconscious is both vast and inexhaustible. It is not simply the unknown
or the repository of conscious thoughts and emotions that have been repressed,
but includes contents that may or will become conscious.

So defined, the unconscious depicts an extremely fluid state
of affairs: everything of which I know, but of which I am not at the moment
thinking; everything of which I was once conscious but have now forgotten;
everything perceived by my senses, but not noted by my conscious mind;
everything which, involuntarily and without paying attention to it, I
feel, think, remember, want, and do; all the future things that are taking
shape in me and will sometime come to consciousness: all this is the content
of the unconscious.[On the Nature of the Psyche," CW 8,
par. 382.]

The unconscious also contains "psychoid" functions that are not capable
of consciousness and of which we have only indirect knowledge, such as the
relationship between matter and spirit.
Whenever the unconscious becomes overactive, it comes to light in symptoms
that paralyze conscious action. This is likely to happen when unconscious
factors are ignored or repressed.

The demands of the unconscious then force themselves imperiously
on consciousness and bring about a disastrous split which shows itself
in one of two ways: either the subject no longer knows what he really
wants and nothing interests him, or he wants too much at once and has
too many interests, but in impossible things.[General Description
of the Types," CW 6, par. 573.

In general, the compensating attitude of the unconscious works to maintain
psychic equilibrium.

The unconscious processes that compensate the conscious ego
contain all those elements that are necessary for the self-regulation
of the psyche as a whole. On the personal level, these are the not consciously
recognized personal motives which appear in dreams, or the meanings of
daily situations which we have overlooked, or conclusions we have failed
to draw, or affects we have not permitted, or criticisms we have spared
ourselves.[The Function of the Unconscious," CW 7, par.
275.]

In terms of typology, the unconscious manifests through the opposite attitude
and the less developed functions. In the extravert, the unconscious has
a subjective coloring and an egocentric bias; in the introvert, it can appear
as a compulsive tie to persons and things in the outside world.

Jung attributed to the unconscious a creative function, in that it presents
to consciousness contents necessary for psychological health. It is not,
however, superior to consciousness; its messages (in dreams, impulses,
etc.) must always be mediated by the ego.

The unconscious is useless without the human mind. It always
seeks its collective purposes and never your individual destiny. [C.G.
Jung Letters, vol. 1, p. 283.]

Consciousness should defend its reason and protect itself, and the
chaotic life of the unconscious should be given the chance of having
its way too--as much of it as we can stand. This means open conflict
and open collaboration at once. That, evidently, is the way human life
should be. It is the old game of hammer and anvil: between them the
patient iron is forged into an indestructible whole, an "individual."[Conscious,
Unconscious, and Individuation," CW 9i, par. 522.]

Unconsciousness. A state of psychic functioning marked by lack of
control over the instincts and identification with complexes.

Unconsciousness is the primal sin, evil itself, for the Logos.["Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype," ibid., par. 178.]

An extreme state of unconsciousness is characterized by the predominance
of compulsive instinctual processes, the result of which is either uncontrolled
inhibition or a lack of inhibition throughout. The happenings within
the psyche are then contradictory and proceed in terms of alternating,
non-logical antitheses. In such a case the level of consciousness is
essentially that of a dream-state. A high degree of consciousness, on
the other hand, is characterized by a heightened awareness, a preponderance
of will, directed, rational behaviour, and an almost total absence of
instinctual determinants. The unconscious is then found to be at a definitely
animal level. The first state is lacking in intellectual and ethical
achievement, the second lacks naturalness.["Psychological
Factors in Human Behaviour," CW 8, par. 249.]

The greatest danger about unconsciousness is proneness to suggestion.
The effect of suggestion is due to the release of an unconscious dynamic,
and the more unconscious this is, the more effective it will be. Hence
the ever-widening split between conscious and unconscious increases
the danger of psychic infection and mass psychosis.[The
Structure and Dynamics of the Self," CW 9ii, par. 390.]

Union of opposites. See opposites.

Unus mundus. See coniunctio.

Wholeness. A state in which consciousness and the unconscious
work together in harmony. (See also self.)

Although "wholeness" seems at first sight to be nothing but
an abstract idea (like anima and animus), it is nevertheless empirical
in so far as it is anticipated by the psyche in the form of spontaneous
or autonomous symbols. These are the quaternity or mandala symbols, which
occur not only in the dreams of modern people who have never heard of
them, but are widely disseminated in the historical records of many peoples
and many epochs. Their significance as symbols of unity and totality
is amply confirmed by history as well as by empirical psychology.[The
Self," ibid., par. 59.]

In terms of individuation, where the goal is a vital connection with the
self, Jung contrasted wholeness with the conflicting desire to become perfect.

The realization of the self, which would logically follow from
a recognition of its supremacy, leads to a fundamental conflict, to a
real suspension between opposites (reminiscent of the crucified Christ
hanging between two thieves), and to an approximate state of wholeness
that lacks perfection. . . . The individual may strive after perfection
. . . but must suffer from the opposite of his intentions for the sake
of his completeness.["Christ, A Symbol of the Self," ibid.,
par. 123.]

Will. The amount of psychic energy or libido at the disposal of consciousness,
implying some control over instinct.

The will is a psychological phenomenon that owes its existence
to culture and moral education, but is largely lacking in the primitive
mentality.[Definitions," CW 6, par. 844.]

Wise old man. An archetypal image of meaning and wisdom. In Jung's
terminology, the wise old man is a personification of the masculine spirit.
In a man's psychology, the anima is related to the wise old man as daughter
to father. In a woman, the wise old man is an aspect of the animus. The
feminine equivalent in both men and women is the Great Mother.

The figure of the wise old man can appear so plastically, not
only in dreams but also in visionary meditation (or what we call "active
imagination"), that . . . it takes over the role of a guru. The wise old
man appears in dreams in the guise of a magician, doctor, priest, teacher,
professor, grandfather, or any person possessing authority.["The
Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales," CW 9i, par. 398.]

Word Association Experiment. A test devised by Jung to show the reality
and autonomy of unconscious complexes.

Our conscious intentions and actions are often frustrated by
unconscious processes whose very existence is a continual surprise to
us. We make slips of the tongue and slips in writing and unconsciously
do things that betray our most closely guarded secrets-which are sometimes
unknown even to ourselves. . . . These phenomena can . . . be demonstrated
experimentally by the association tests, which are very useful for finding
out things that people cannot or will not speak about.[The
Structure of the Psyche," CW 8, par. 296.]

The Word Association Experiment consists of a list of one hundred words,
to which one is asked to give an immediate association. The person conducting
the experiment measures the delay in response with a stop watch. This is
repeated a second time, noting any different responses. Finally the subject
is asked for comments on those words to which there were a longer-than-average
response time, a merely mechanical response, or a different association
on the second run-through; all these are marked by the questioner as "complex
indicators" and then discussed with the subject.
The result is a "map" of the personal complexes, valuable both for self-understanding
and in recognizing disruptive factors that commonly bedevil relationships.

What happens in the association test also happens in every discussion
between two people. . . . The discussion loses its objective character
and its real purpose, since the constellated complexes frustrate the intentions
of the speakers and may even put answers into their mouths which they
can no longer remember afterwards.[A Review of the Complex
Theory," ibid., par. 199.]

Wounded Healer. An archetypal dynamic that may be constellated in
an analytic relationship.

This term derives from the legend of Asclepius, a Greek doctor who in
recognition of his own wounds established a sanctuary at Epidaurus where
others could be healed of theirs.
Those seeking to be cured went through a process called incubation. First
they had a cleansing bath, thought to have a purifying effect on the soul
as well as the body. Uncontaminated by the body, the soul was free to
commune with the gods. After preliminary sacrificial offerings, the incubants
lay on a couch and went to sleep. If they were lucky, they had a healing
dream; if they were luckier, a snake came in the night and bit them.

The wounded healer archetype can be schematized by a variation of the
diagram used by Jung to illustrate the lines of communication in a relationship.[See
"The Psychology of the Transference," The Practice of Psychother-apy,
CW 16, par. 422.

The drawing shows six double-headed arrows, indicating that communication
can move in either direction-twelve ways in which information can pass
between analyst and analysand.
According to this paradigm, the analyst's wounds, although presumed to
be relatively conscious after a lengthy personal analysis, live a shadowy
existence. They can always be reconstellated in particular situations,
and especially when working with someone whose wounds are similar. (They
are the basis for countertransference reactions in analysis.)

Meanwhile, the wounded analysand's inner healer is in the shadow but
potentially available. The analysand's wounds activate those of the analyst.
The analyst reacts, identifies what is happening and in one way or another,
consciously or unconsciously, passes this awareness back to the analysand.
In this model, the unconscious relationship between analyst and analysand
is quite as important, in terms of the healing process, as what is consciously
communicated. There are two other significant implications:

1) Healing can take place only if the analyst has an ongoing relationship
with the unconscious. Otherwise, he or she may identify with the healer
archetype, a common form of inflation.

2) Depth psychology is a dangerous profession, since the analyst is forever
prone to being infected by the other's wounds-or having his or her wounds
reopened.

No analysis is capable of banishing all unconsciousness for
ever. The analyst must go on learning endlessly, and never forget that
each new case brings new problems to light and thus gives rise to unconscious
assumptions that have never before been constellated. We could say, without
too much exaggeration, that a good half of every treatment that probes
at all deeply consists in the doctor's examining himself, for only what
he can put right in himself can he hope to put right in the patient. It
is no loss, either, if he feels that the patient is hitting him, or even
scoring off him: it is his own hurt that gives the measure of his power
to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the
wounded physician. ["Fundamental Questions of Psychotherapy,"
ibid. para. 239.]

1. Psychiatric Studies
2. Experimental Researches
3. The Psychogenesis of Mental Disease
4. Freud and Psychoanalysis
5. Symbols of Transformation
6. Psychological Types
7. Two Essays on Analytical Psychology
8. The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche
9i. The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious
9ii. Aion: Researches into the Phenomenology of the Self
10. Civilization in Transition
11. Psychology and Religion: West and East
12. Psychology and Alchemy
13. Alchemical Studies
14. Mysterium Coniunctionis
15. The Spirit in Man, Art, and Literature
16. The Practice of Psychotherapy
17. The Development of Personality
18. The Symbolic Life: Miscellaneous Writings
19. General Bibliography of Jung's Writings
20. General Index

Daryl Sharp, B.Sc., B.J., M.A., is a graduate of the
C.G. Jung Institute in Zurich, and publisher of Inner City Books. He
is the author of Personality Types: Jung's Model of Typology,
Jung Lexicon: A Primer of Terms and Concepts, The Secret Raven
, The Survival Papers, Dear Gladys, Chicken Little, Who Am I, Really?,
Living Jung , Jungian Psychology Unplugged, Digesting Jung , Cumulative
Index and Getting To Know You: The Inside Out of Relationship.
He lives and practices in Toronto.